THE 

YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER 


HORATIO   ALGER,  JR. 

AUTHOR  OF  "RAGGED  DICK  SERIES,"  "NEW  WORLD  SERIES,"  ETC. 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO., 

PHILADELPHIA, 
CHICAGO,  TORONTO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1898,  BY 
HENRY  T.  COATES  &  Ott 


f 


A3 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   THE  LONELY  CABIN,     ............  1 

II.   A  DEATHBED  REVELATION,     .........  10 

III.  A  SUCCESSFUL  ROBBERY,  ...........  19 

IV.  ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD,    ...........  27 

V.   THE  TRAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN,    .......  36 

VI.   A  CRITICAL  SITUATION,    ...........  44 

VII.   ON  THE  ROAD,    ...............  53 

VIII.   THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE,    ..........  61 

IX.   AN  ARMED  ESCORT,  .............  71 

X.   THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW,     .........  77 

XL   UNDER  WATCH  AND  WARD,   .........  88 

XII.   THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE,   ...........  97 

XIII.  THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE,    ..........  106 

XIV.  ERNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE,    ........  115 

XV.   A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE,    ...........  124 

XVI.   THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME,      ...........  133 

XVII.   IN  THE  BOBBER'S  CAVE,  ...........  142 

XVIII.  THE  OUTLAW  AND  His  BAND,   ........  153 

XIX.   A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE,  ............  159 

XX.   ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE,    ........  168 

(iii) 


M637460 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.  OUT  OF  THE  FRYING-PAN  INTO  THE  FIRE,  .  178 

XXII.   A  FRIEND  IN  NEED, 187 

XXIII.  GIVEN  IN  TRUST, 196 

XXIV.  STEPHEN  KAY  AND  His  SON, 206 

XXV.   A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE, 216 

XXVI.   BOUGHT  OFF,     228 

XXVII.   THE  TOWN  OF  OREVILLE, 236 

XXVIII.  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP,   ....  246 

XXIX.   TOM  BURNS  MAKES  A  CALL, 256 

XXX.   A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE, 266 

XXXI.   THE  ADVERTISEMENT, 276 

XXXII.   MR.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER, 285 

XXXIII.  THE  KESULT  OF  AN  ADVERTISEMENT,    .   .   .  295 

XXXIV.  A  STRANGE  MEETING,     301 

XXXV.   MR.  BOLTON  AND  His  CLIENT, 309 

XXXVI.   AN  IMPORTANT  INTERVIEW, 314 

XXXVII.  CONCLUSION, 320 


THE 

YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    LONELY    CABIN. 

JUST  on  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  in  western 
Iowa,  some  thirty  years  since,  stood  a 
cabin  covering  quite  a  little  ground,  but  only 
one  story  high.  It  was  humble  enough  as  a 
home,  but  not  more  so  than  the  early  homes  of 
some  who  have  become  great. 

Let  us  enter. 

The  furniture  was  scanty,  being  limited  to 
articles  of  prime  necessity.  There  was  a  stove, 
a  table,  three  chairs,  a  row  of  shelves  contain 
ing  a  few  articles  of  crockery  and  tinware,  and 
a  bed  in  the  far  corner  of  the  room,  on  which 
rested  a  man.  He  had  a  ragged  gray  beard 
and  hair,  and  a  face  long  and  thin,  with  pre- 
ternaturally  black  eyes. 

i  (l) 


2  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  sick  unto  death. 
His  parchment-colored  skin  was  indented  with 
wrinkles;  from  time  to  time  he  coughed  so 
violently  as  to  rack  his  slight  frame,  and  his 
hand,  thin  and  wrinkled,  as  it  rested  on  the 
quilt  that  covered  him,  shook  as  with  palsy. 

It  was  hard  to  tell  how  old  the  man  was. 
He  looked  over  seventy,  but  there  were  indi 
cations  that  he  had  aged  prematurely. 

There  was  one  other  person  in  the  room,  one 
whose  appearance  contrasted  strongly  with  that 
of  the  old  man.  It  was  a  boy  of  sixteen,  a  boy 
with  dark  brown  hair,  ruddy  cheeks,  hazel 
eyes,  an  attractive  yet  firm  and  resolute  face, 
and  an  appearance  of  manliness  and  self-reli 
ance.  He  was  well  dressed,  and,  though  the 
tenant  of  such  an  humble  home,  would  have 
passed  muster  upon  the  streets  of  a  city. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Uncle  Peter  ?"  he  asked, 
as  he  stood  by  the  bedside. 

"  I  shall  never  feel  any  better,  Ernest,"  said 
the  old  man,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"  Don't  say  that,  uncle,"  rejoined  Ernest  in 
a  tone  of  concern. 

There  seemed  little  to  connect  him,  in  his 


THE  LONELY  CABIN.  3 

strong,  attractive  boyhood,  with  the  frail  old 
man,  but  they  had  lived  together  for  five  years, 
and  habit  was  powerful. 

"  Yes,  Ernest,  I  shall  never  rise  from  this 

bed/' 

"  Isn't  there  anything  I  can  get  for  you, 
uncle?" 

"  Is  there — is  there  anything  left  in  the 
bottle  ?"  asked  Peter,  wistfully. 

Ernest  walked  to  the  shelf  that  held  the 
dishes,  and  took  from  a  corner  a  large  black 
bottle.  It  seemed  light  and  might  be  empty. 
He  turned  out  the  contents  into  a  glass,  but 
there  was  only  a  tablespoonful  of  whisky  left. 

"It  is  almost  all  gone,  Uncle  Peter;  will 
you  have  this  much  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  old  man,  tremulously. 

Ernest  lifted  the  invalid  into  a  sitting  pos 
ture,  and  then  put  the  glass  to  his  mouth. 

He  drained  it,  and  gave  a  sigh  of  satisfac 
tion. 

"  It  is  good,"  he  said  briefly. 

"  I  wish  there  were  more." 

"  It  goes  to  the  right  spot.  It  puts  strength 
into  me." 


4  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"Shall  I  go  to  the  village  and  buy  more?" 

« I_I  don't  know—" 

"  I  can  get  back  very  soon." 

"  Very  well — go  then,  like  a  good  boy." 

"  I  shall  have  to  trouble  you  for  some  money, 
Uncle  Peter." 

"  Go  to  the  trunk.     You  will  find  some." 

There  was  a  small  hair  trunk,  in  another 
corner.  Ernest  knew  that  this  was  meant,  and 
he  knelt  down  before  it  and  lifted  the  lid. 

There  was  a  small  wooden  box  at  the  left- 
hand  side.  Opening  this,  Ernest  discovered 
three  five-dollar  gold  pieces.  Usually  his  uncle 
had  gone  to  the  trunk  for  money,  but  the  boy 
knew  where  it  was  kept. 

"  There  are  but  three  gold  pieces,  uncle,"  he 
announced,  looking  towards  the  bed. 

"  Take  one  of  them,  Ernest." 

"  I  wonder  if  that  is  all  the  money  he  has 
left?"  thought  Ernest. 

He  rose  from  his  kneeling  position  and 
went  to  the  door. 

"  I  won't  be  gone  long,  uncle,"  he  said.  He 
followed  a  path  which  led  from  the  door  in  an 
easterly  direction  to  the  village.  It  was  over 


THE  LONELY  CABIN.  5 

a  mile  away,  and  consisted  only  of  a  few 
scattering  houses,  a  blacksmith's  shop,  and  a 
store. 

It  was  to  the  store  that  Ernest  bent  his 
steps.  It  was  a  one-story  structure,  as  were 
most  of  the  buildings  in  the  village.  There 
was  a  sign  over  the  door  which  read : 

JOE  MARKS. 
Groceries  and  Family  Supplies. 

Joe  stood  behind  the  counter;  there  were 
two  other  men  in  the  store,  one  tall,  gaunt, 
of  the  average  Western  type,  with  a  broad- 
brimmed,  soft  felt  hat  on  his  head,  and  in  the 
costume  of  a  hunter ;  he  looked  rough,  but 
honest  and  reliable,  and  that  was  more  than 
could  be  said  of  the  other.  He  may  best  be 
described  as  a  tramp,  a  man  who  looked  averse 
to  labor  of  any  kind,  a  man  without  a  settled 
business  or  home,  who  picked  up  a  living  as 
he  could,  caring  less  for  food  than  for  drink, 
and  whose  mottled  face  indicated  frequent  po 
tations  of  whisky. 

Ernest  looked  at  this  man  as  he  entered. 
He  didn't  remember  to  have  met  him  before, 


6  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

nor  was  there  anything  to  attract  him  in  his 
appearance. 

"How  are  you,  Ernest?"  said  Joe  Marks, 
cordially.  "  How's  Uncle  Peter?" 

"  He's  pretty  bad,  Joe.  He  thinks  he's 
going  to  die." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  surely." 

"  Yes,  I  guess  he's  right.    He's  very  weak." 

"  Well,  well,  he's  a  good  age.  How  old  is 
he?" 

"  I  don't  know.     He  never  told  me." 

"He's  well  on  to  seventy,  I'm  thinking. 
But  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

"  You  may  fill  this  bottle,  Joe;  Uncle  Peter 
is  so  weak  he  thinks  it  will  put  new  life  in 
him." 

"So  it  will,  Ernest;  there's  nothing  like 
good  whisky  to  make  an  old  man  strong,  or  a 
young  man,  for  that  matter." 

It  may  be  easy  to  see  that  Joe  did  not  be 
lieve  in  total  abstinence. 

"  I  don't  drink,  myself!"  said  Ernest,  reply 
ing  to  the  last  part  of  Joe's  remark. 

"  There's  nothing  like  whisky,"  remarked 
the  tramp  in  a  hoarse  voice. 


THE  LONELY  CABIN.  7 

"  You've  drunk  your  share,  I'm  thinking," 
said  Luke  Bobbins,  the  tall  hunter. 

"  Not  yet,"  returned  the  tramp.  "  I  haven't 
had  my  share  yet.  There's  lots  of  people  that 
has  drunk  more'n  me." 

"  Why  havn't  you  drunk  your  share  ?  You 
hadn't  no  objections,  I  reckon." 

"  I  hadn't  the  money,"  said  the  tramp,  sadly. 
"  I've  never  had  much  money.  I  ain't  lucky." 

"  If  you  had  had  more  money,  you'd  maybe 
not  be  living  now.  You'd  have  drunk  your 
self  to  death." 

"  If  I  ever  do  commit  suicide,  that's  the  way 
I'd  like  to  die,"  said  the  tramp. 

Joe  filled  the  bottle  from  a  keg  behind  the 
counter  and  handed  it  to  Ernest.  The  aroma 
of  the  whisky  was  diffused  about  the  store,  and 
the  tramp  sniffed  it  in  eagerly.  It  stimulated 
his  desire  to  indulge  his  craving  for  drink. 
As  Ernest,  with  the  bottle  in  his  hand,  pre 
pared  to  leave,  the  tramp  addressed  him. 

"  Say,  young  feller,ain't  you  goin'  to  shout?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

11  Ain't  you  goin'  to  treat  me  and  this  gen 
tleman  ?"  indicating  Luke  Bobbins. 


8  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  No,"  answered  Ernest,  shortly.  "  I  don't 
buy  it  as  drink,  but  as  medicine." 

""I  need  medicine,"  urged  the  tramp,  with 
a  smile. 

"I  don't,"  said  the  hunter.  "Don't  you 
bother  about  us,  my  boy.  If  we  want  whisky 
we  can  buy  it  ourselves." 

"  I  can't,"  whined  the  tramp.  "  If  I  had  as 
much  money  as  you  " — for  he  had  noticed  that 
Ernest  had  changed  a  gold  piece — "  I'd  be 
happy,  but  I'm  out  of  luck." 

Ernest  paid  no  attention  to  his  words,  but 
left  the  store,  and  struck  the  path  homeward. 

"  Who's  that  boy?"  asked  the  tramp. 

"  It's  Ernest  Ray." 

"  Where'd  he  get  that  gold  ?" 

"  He  lives  with  his  uncle,  a  mile  from  the 
village." 

"  Is  his  uncle  rich?" 

"  Folks  think  so.  They  call  him  a  miser." 

"Ishegoin'todie?" 

"  That's  what  the  boy  says." 

"  And  the  boy '11  get  all  his  money  ?" 

« It's  likely." 

"I'd  like  to  be  his  guardian." 


THE  LONELY  CABIN. 


Joe  and  Luke  Robbins  laughed. 
"  You'd  make  a  pretty  guardian,"  said  Luke. 
"  I  won't  get  it,"  said  the  tramp,  mournfully. 
I  never  had  no  luck." 


10  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    DEATHBED    REVELATION. 

J-lRNEST  made  the  best  of  his  way  home, 
I  1  for  he  knew  his  uncle  would  be  waiting 
for  him. 

The  old  man's  eyes  were  closed,  but  he 
opened  them  when  Ernest  entered  the  room. 

"  Was  I  gone  long  ?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  I  don't  know.     I  think  I  fell  asleep." 

"  Shall  I  give  you  some  of  the  drink  ?" 

"  Yes." 

He  drank  a  small  amount,  and  it  seemed  to 
brighten  him  up  so  much  that  Ernest  said, 
"  You  look  better,  Uncle  Peter.  You  may  live 
some  time." 

Peter  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  boy,"  he  replied  ;  "  my  time  has  come 
to  die.  I  know  it.  I  would  like  to  live  for 
your  sake.  You  will  miss  me  when  I  am  gone, 
Ernest?" 

"  Yes,  uncle,  I  shall  miss  you  very  much." 


A  DEATHBED  REVELATION.  11 

The  old  man  seemed  gratified.  Ernest  was 
the  only  one  he  cared  for  in  all  the  world. 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  about  dying,  but  I 
am  anxious  for  you.     I  wish  I  had  money  to 
leave  you,  Ernest,  but  I  haven't  much." 
"  I  am  young  and  strong.    I  can  get  along." 
"  I  hope  so.     You  will  go  away  from  here." 
"  Yes,  uncle.     I  don't  think  1  shall  care  to 
stay  here  after  you  are  gone." 

"  You  will  need  money  to  take  you  away." 
"  There  is  a  little  more  in  the  trunk." 
"  But  only  a  little.     It  is  not  quite  all  I 
have.     I  have  a  hundred  dollars  in  gold  laid 
away  for  you." 

Ernest  looked  surprised. 
"  I  must  tell  you  where  it  is  while  I  still 
have  life.     Do  you  remember  the  oak  tree  on 
the  little  knoll  half  a  mile  away  ?" 
"  Yes,  I  know  it." 

"  Dig  under  that  tree  five  feet  in  a  westerly 
direction.  There  is  a  wooden  box  about  half 
a  foot  below  the  surface  of  the  earth.  There's 
nothing  to  mark  the  spot,  for  it  was  buried  a 
year  since,  and  the  grass  has  grown  over  it, 
t:ding  all  traces  of  the  earth's  being  dis- 


12  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

turbed.  After  I  am  gone  go  there  and  get 
the  money." 

"  Yes,  uncle." 

"  Don't  let  any  one  see  you  when  you  visit 
the  spot.  It  will  be  best  to  go  at  night. 
There  are  evil-disposed  men  who  would  rob 
you  of  it  if  they  had  the  chance.  I  am  sorry 
it  is  so  little,  Ernest." 

"  But  it  seems  to  me  a  good  deal." 

"  To  a  boy  it  may  seem  so.  Once  I 
thought  I  might  have  a  good  deal  more  to 
leave  you.  Go  to  the  trunk  and  search  till 
you  find  a  paper  folded  in  an  envelope,  and 
inscribed  with  your  name." 

"  Shall  I  search  now  ?" 

"Yes." 

Ernest  went  to  the  trunk,  and  followed  the 
old  man's  directions.  He  found  the  envelope 
readily,  and  held  it  up. 

"Is  that  it,  uncle?" 

"  Yes.  Put  it  in  your  pocket,  and  read  it 
after  I  am  gone.  Then  be  guided  by  circum 
stances.  It  may  amount  to  something  here 
after." 

"  Very  well,  uncle." 


A  DEATHBED  REVELATION.  13 

"  I  have  told  you,  Ernest,  that  I  do  not  ex 
pect  to  live  long.  I  have  a  feeling  that 
twenty-four  hours  from  now  I  shall  be  gone." 

"  Oh,  no,  uncle,  not  so  soon !"  exclaimed 
Ernest,  in  a  shocked  tone. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  If  you  have  any  ques 
tions  to  ask  me  while  I  yet  have  life,  ask,  for 
it  is  your  right." 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Peter,  I  have  long  wished  to 
know  something  about  myself.  Have  I  any 
relatives  except  you  ?" 

"  I  am  not  your  relative,"  answered  the  old 
man  slowly. 

Ernest  was  amazed. 

"  Are  you  not  my  uncle  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No ;  there  is  no  tie  of  blood  between  us." 

"  Then  how  does  it  happen  that  we  have 
lived  together  so  many  years  ?" 

"  I  was  a  servant  in  your  father's  family. 
When  your  father  died,  the  care  of  you  de 
volved  upon  me." 

"  Where  was  I  born  ?" 

"  In  a  large  town  in  the  western  part  of 
New  York  State.  Your  grandfather  was  a 
man  of  wealth,  but  your  father  incurred  his 


14  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER 

displeasure  by  his  marriage  to  a  poor  but 
highly-educated  and  refined  girl.  A  cousin 
of  your  father  took  advantage  of  this  and 
succeeded  in  alienating  father  and  son.  The 
estate  that  should  have  descended  to  your 
father  was  left  to  the  cousin." 

"Is  he  still  living?" 

"  Yes." 

"  But  my  father  died  ?" 

"  Yes ;  he  had  a  fever,  which  quickly  car 
ried  him  off  when  you  were  five  years  of 
age." 

"  Was  he  very  poor  ?" 

"  No ;  he  inherited  a  few  thousand  dollars 
from  an  aunt,  and  upon  this  he  lived  pru 
dently,  carrying  on  a  small  business  besides. 
Your  mother  died  when  you  were  three  years 
old,  your  father  two  years  later." 

"  And  then  you  took  care  of  me  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  I  have  been  a  burden  to  you  these 
many  years !" 

"  No  !  Don't  give  me  too  much  credit.  A 
sum  of  money  was  put  into  my  hands  to 
spend  for  you.  We  lived  carefully,  and  it 


A  DEATHBED  REVELATION.  15 

lasted.  We  have  been  here  three  years,  and  it 
has  cost  very  little  to  live  in  that  time.  The 
hundred  dollars  of  which  I  spoke  to  you  are 
the  last  of  your  inheritance.  You  are  not 
indebted  to  me  for  it.  It  is  rightfully  yours." 

"  What  is  my  uncle's  name  ?" 

"  Stephen  Ray.  He  lives  a  few  miles  from 
Elmira,  on  the  Erie  road." 

"  And  is  he  quite  rich  ?" 

"  Yes ;  he  is  probably  worth  a  quarter  of  a 
million  dollars.  It  is  money  which  should 
have  gone  to  your  father." 

"Then  the  wicked  are  sometimes  pros 
pered  in  this  world  !" 

"  Yes,  but  this  world  is  not  all." 

"  Has  there  been  any  communication  with 
my  cousin  in  all  these  years  ?" 

"  Yes,  two  years  ago  I  wrote  to  him." 

"  What  did  you  write  ?" 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  Ernest,  but  I  saw 
you  growing  up  without  an  education,  and  I 
felt  that  you  should  have  advantages  which  I 
could  not  give  you.  I  wrote  to  your  cousin 
asking  if  he  would  pay  your  expenses  in  a 
preparatory  school  and  afterward  at  college. " 


16        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER 

"  What  did  he  reply  ?" 

"  Go  to  the  trunk.  You  will  find  his  letter 
there.  It  is  in  the  tray,  and  addressed  to 
me." 

Ernest  found  it  readily. 

"  May  I  read  it?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I  wish  you  to  do  so." 

It  ran  thus : 

PETER  BRANT. 

Sir:  I  have  received  your  letter  making  an  ap 
peal  to  me  in  behalf  of  Ernest  Ray,  the  son  of  my 
cousin.  You  wish  me  to  educate  him.  I  must  de 
cline  to  do  so.  His  father  very  much  incensed  my 
revered  uncle,  and  it  is  not  right  that  any  of  his 
money  should  go  to  him  or  his  heirs.  He  must 
reap  the  reward  of  his  disobedience.  So  far  as  I  am 
personally  concerned  I  should  not  object  to  doing 
something  for  the  boy,  but  I  am  sure  that  my  dead 
uncle  would  not  approve  it.  Besides,  I  have  myself 
a  son  to  whom  I  propose  to  leave  the  estate  intact. 

It  is  my  advice  that  you  bring  up  the  boy  Ernest 
to  some  humble  employment,  perhaps  have  him 
taught  some  trade  by  which  he  can  earn  an  honest 
living.  It  is  not  at  all  necessary  that  he  should  re 
ceive  a  collegiate  education.  You  are  living  at  the 
West.  That  is  well.  He  is  favorably  situated  for  a 
poor  boy,  and  will  have  little  difficulty  in  earning  a 
livelihood.  I  don't  care  to  have  him  associate  with 


A  DEATHBED  EEVELATION.  17 

my  boy  Clarence.     They  are  cousins,  it  is  true,  but 
their  lots  in  life  will  be  very  different. 

I  do  not  care  to  communicate  with  you  again. 

STEPHEN  RAY. 

Ernest  read  this  letter  with  flushed  cheeks. 

"  I  hate  that  man,"  he  said  hotly,  "  even  if 
he  is  a  relative.  Uncle  Peter,  I  am  sorry 
you  ever  applied  to  him  in  my  behalf." 

"  I  would  not,  Ernest,  if  I  had  understood 
what  manner  of  man  he  was." 

"  I  may  meet  him  some  time,"  said  Ernest, 
thoughtfully. 

"  Would  you  claim  relationship  ?" 

"Never!"  declared  Ernest,  emphatically. 
"  It  was  he,  you  say,  who  prejudiced  my 
grandfather  against  my  poor  father  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  In  order  to  secure  the  estate  himself?'' 

"  Undoubtedly  that  was  his  object." 

"  Nothing  could  be  meaner.  I  would  rather 
live  poor  all  my  life  than  get  property  by 
such  means." 

"  If  you  have  no  more  questions  to  ask, 
Ernest,  I  will  try  to  sleep.  I  feel  drowsy." 

"  Do  so,  Uncle  Peter." 
2 


18        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

The  old  man  closed  his  eyes,  and  soon  all 
was  silent.  Presently  Ernest  himself  lay 
down  on  a  small  bed  near  by.  When  he 
awoke,  hours  afterward,  he  lit  a  candle  and 
went  to  Peter's  bedside. 

The  old  man  lay  still — very  still.  With 
quick  suspicion  Ernest  placed  his  hand  on 
his  cheek. 

It  was  stone  cold. 

"  He  is  dead !"  cried  Ernest,  and  a  feeling 
of  desolation  came  over  him. 

"  I  am  all  alone  now,"  he  murmured. 

But  he  was  not  wholly  alone.  There  was 
a  face  glued  against  the  window-pane — a  face 
that  he  did  not  see.  It  was  the  tramp  he  had 
met  during  the  day  at  the  village  store. 


A  SUCCESSFUL  EOBBEEY.  19 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    SUCCESSFUL    ROBBERY. 

THE  tramp  stood  with  his  face  glued  to  the 
pane,  looking  in  at  the  boy.  He  could 
not  quite  understand  what  had  taken  place, 
but  gathered  that  the  old  man  was  dead. 

"  So  much  the  better !"  he  said.  "  It  will 
make  my  task  easier." 

He  had  hoped  to  find  both  asleep,  and  de 
cided  to  wait  near  the  house  till  the  boy  went 
to  bed.  He  had  made  many  inquiries  at  the 
store  of  Joe  Marks,  and  the  answers  to  his 
questions  led  him  to  believe  that  old  Peter 
had  a  large  amount  of  money  concealed  in  his 
cabin. 

Now,  Torn  Burns  was  a  penniless  tramp, 
who  had  wandered  from  Chicago  on  a  preda 
tory  trip,  ready  to  take  any  property  he  could 
lay  his  hands  on.  The  chance  that  presented 
itself  here  was  unusually  tempting  to  a  man 
of  his  character. 


20        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Earlier  in  the  evening  he  had  reached  the 
cabin,  but  thought  it  best  to  defer  his  plans 
until  later,  for  Ernest  was  awake  and  stirring 
about  the  room. 

The  tramp  withdrew  to  some  distance  from 
the  cabin  and  lay  down  under  a  tree,  where 
he  was  soon  fast  asleep.  Curiously,  it  was  the 
very  oak  tree  under  which  Peter's  little  hoard 
was  concealed,  but  this,  of  course,  he  did  not 
know.  Had  he  been  aware  that  directly  be 
neath  him  was  a  box  containing  a  hundred 
dollars  in  gold  he  would  have  been  electrified 
and  full  of  joy. 

Tom  Burns  in  his  long  and  varied  career 
had  many  times  slept  in  the  open  air,  and 
he  had  no  difficulty  in  falling  asleep  now. 
But  asleep  he  took  no  note  of  time,  and  when 
he  woke  up  it  was  much  later  than  he  in 
tended.  However,  without  delay  he  made 
his  way  to  the  cabin,  and  arrived  just  as 
Ernest  discovered  the  death  of  the  old  man 
whom  he  had  supposed  to  be  his  uncle. 

What  time  it  was  the  tramp  did  not  know, 
for  it  was  years  since  he  had  carried  a  watch ; 
but  as  he  stood  with  his  face  glued  to  the 


A  SUCCESSFUL  ROBBERY.  21 

window-pane  he  heard  a  clock  in  the  cabin 
striking  the  hour  of  three. 

"  Three  o'clock,"  he  ejaculated.  "  Well,  I 
did  have  a  nap  !" 

The  boy  was  awake  and  he  thought  it  best 
to  wait  a  while. 

"Why  didn't  I  get  here  a  little  sooner?" 
he  grumbled.  "  Then  I  could  have  ransacked 
the  cabin  without  trouble.  Probably  the  old 
man  has  been  dead  some  time." 

He  watched  to  see  what  Ernest  would  do. 

"  He  won't  be  such  a  fool  as  to  sit  up  with 
the  corpse/'  he  muttered,  a  little  apprehen 
sively.  "  That  wouldn't  do  no  good." 

Apparently  Ernest  was  of  this  opinion,  for 
after  carefully  covering  up  the  inanimate  body 
he  lay  down  again  on  his  own  bed. 

He  did  not  fall  asleep  immediately,  for  the 
thought  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  death 
naturally  affected  his  imagination.  But  grad 
ually  his  eyes  closed,  and  his  full,  regular 
breathing  gave  notice  that  he  was  locked  in 
slumber. 

He  had  left  the  candle  burning  on  the  table. 
By  the  light  which  it  afforded  the  tramp  could 


22  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER 

watch  him,  and  at  the  end  of  twenty  minutes 
he  felt  satisfied  that  he  could  safely  enter. 

He  lifted  the  window,  and  passed  into  the 
room  noiselessly.  He  had  one  eye  fixed  on 
the  sleeping  boy,  who  might  suddenly  awake. 
He  had  taken  off  his  shoes,  and  left  them  on 
the  grass  just  under  the  window. 

When  Tom  Burns  found  himself  in  the 
room,  he  made  his  way  at  once  to  the  trunk, 
which  his  watchful  eye  had  already  discov 
ered. 

"  That's  where  the  old  man  keeps  his  gold, 
likely,"  he  muttered.  "  I  hope  it  isn't  locked." 

Usually  the  trunk  would  have  been  fast 
ened,  but  the  conversation  which  Ernest  had 
had  with  old  Peter  so  engrossed  his  mind  as 
to  make  him  less  careful  than  usual.  Tom 
Burns  therefore  had  no  difficulty  in  lifting  the 
lid. 

With  eager  fingers  he  explored  the  contents, 
and  was  not  long  in  discovering  the  box  which 
contained  the  two  gold  coins. 

The  discovery  pleased  and  yet  disappointed 
him. 

"  Only  ten  dollars  !"  he  muttered.    "  There 


A  SUCCESSFUL  ROBBERY.  23 

ought  to  have  been  a  pile  of  these  yellow  boys. 
Perhaps  there  are  more  somewhere." 

Meanwhile  he  slipped  the  two  coins  into 
his  vest  pocket  It  was  not  much,  but  it  was 
more  than  he  had  had  in  his  possession  for 
months. 

He  continued  his  search,  but  failed  to  dis 
cover  any  more  money.  He  felt  indignant. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  badly  used. 
That  a  miser  should  have  but  a  paltry  ten 
dollars  in  his  trunk  was  very  discreditable. 

"  He  must  have  some  more  somewhere/' 
Burns  reflected. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  there  might  be  hoards 
hidden  under  the  floor,  or  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  the  cabin.  But  it  was  night, 
and  there  would  be  no  profit  in  pursuing  the 
search  now. 

"  To-morrow/'  he  reflected,  "  the  boy  will 
be  off  making  preparations  for  buryin'  the  old 
man,  arid  then  I  can  make  another  visit." 

He  closed  the  lid  of  the  trunk,  and  with  a 
general  glance  to  see  if  there  was  anything 
more  worth  taking,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  pre 
pared  to  leave  the  room. 


24  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Just  at  this  moment  Ernest,  who  was  prob 
ably  dreaming  of  the  old  man,  spoke  in  his 
sleep. 

"  Uncle  Peter,"  he  murmured. 

The  tramp  stood  still,  apprehensive  that 
Ernest  would  open  his  eyes  and  detect  his 
presence.  But  the  boy  did  not  speak  again. 

"  I  had  better  get,"  soliloquized  Burns. 

He  got  out  of  the  window  quietly,  but  as 
the  boy  stirred  again,  he  hurried  away  with 
out  stopping  to  shut  it. 

When,  a  little  after  seven  o'clock,  Ernest 
woke  up,  the  sun  was  streaming  in  at  the  open 
window,  and  the  cool  air  entered  with  it. 

"How  came  the  window  up?"  thought  Er-, 
nest,  wondering.    "I  am  sure  I  didn't  leave  it 
open  last  night." 

There  was  nothing  else  to  indicate  that  the 
cabin  had  been  entered.  But  the  more  Ernest 
thought  it  over,  the  more  convinced  he  was 
that  there  had  been  a  visitor. 

What  could  have  been  his  motive  ? 

With  sudden  suspicion,  he  went  to  the  trunk 
and  opened  it.  It  was  evident  that  things  had 
been  disturbed.  His  eyes  sought  out  the  box 


A  SUCCESSFUL  EOBBERY.  25 

that  contained  the  gold  pieces.     He  opened  it, 
and  found  that  he  had  been  robbed. 

"  Who  could  have  done  it  ?"  he  asked  him 
self. 

He  could  not  think  of  any  one.  He  was 
acquainted  with  every  one  in  the  little  village, 
and  he  knew  none  that  would  be  capable  of 
theft.  He  never  thought  of  the  ill-looking 
tramp  whom  he  had  met  in  Joe  Marks'  store. 

Ten  dollars  was  a  considerable  loss  to  him, 
for  he  had  estimated  that  it  would  defray  the 
expenses  of  old  Peter's  interment.  It  was  not 
so  bad  as  it  might  have  been,  however,  for  the 
hundred  dollars  of  which  Peter  had  told  him 
were  still  safe. 

"  When  I  get  that  I  must  be  careful,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

Though  his  rest  had  been  disturbed,  he  felt 
ready  to  get  up.  There  was  work  for  him  to 
do.  He  must  arrange  for  the  burial  of  the  old 
man  with  whom  he  had  lived  so  long,  the  only 
friend  he  felt  he  could  claim. 

Ernest  rose,  and  after  dressing  himself, 
made  a  frugal  breakfast.  He  looked  sadly  at 
Peter.  Death  was  to  him  something  new  and 


26  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEE. 

strange,  for  he  did  not  remember  ever  having 
seen  a  dead  man  before.  He  must  get  help, 
and  with  that  object  in  view  he  went  to  the 
village,  and  sought  the  store  of  Joe  Marks. 

"  What  brings  you  out  so  early,  my  lad  ?" 
asked  Joe. 

"  Matter  enough,  Joe.     My  uncle  is  dead." 

He  still  called  him  uncle,  though  he  knew 
now  that  Peter  was  no  kin  to  him. 

"Old  Peter  dead!"  ejaculated  Marks. 
"When  did  he  die?" 

"  Some  time  during  the  night.  I  wish  you'd 
help  me,  for  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  So  I  will,  boy.  We'll  stand  by  you,  won't 
we,  Luke  ?" 

This  was  said  as  Luke  Bobbins  entered  the 
store. 

"  To  be  sure  we  will,  Ernest.  We  all  like 
you." 

"Oh,  I  forgot  to  say,"  continued  Ernest, 
"  the  cabin  was  entered  last  night,  and  some 
money  taken." 


ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD.  27 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ALONE    IN    THE    WORLD. 

JOE  MARKS  and  Luke  Bobbins  looked  at 
each  other  in  amazement. 

"  Your  cabin  entered !"  exclaimed  Joe. 
"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Luke  ?" 

"  I  did  not  know  there  were  any  thieves 
around  here,"  answered  Luke.  "  What  was 
taken?" 

"  An  old  trunk  was  opened — I  carelessly 
left  it  unlocked — and  two  five-dollar  gold  pieces 
were  stolen  out  of  it.  At  any  rate  I  couldn't 
find  them  this  morning." 

"  Two  five-dollar  gold  pieces  ?"  said  Joe 
quickly.  "  Then  I  know  who  took  them." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Joe?"  said  Luke. 
"  Out  with  it !" 

"  You  know  that  tramp  who  was  here  yes 
terday,  Luke?" 

"  Yes." 


28  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"He  came  round  an  hour  ago,  just  after  I 
had  opened,  and  called  for  a  glass  of  whisky. 
1  Where  is  your  money  ?'  I  asked.  '  I've  got 
plenty.  You  needn't  be  afraid/  he  said. 
Then  I  called  upon  him  to  show  it,  and  he 
pulled  out  a  five-dollar  gold  piece.  Of  course 
I  was  surprised.  '  Where  did  you  get  it  ?'  I 
asked,  suspiciously.  '  Yesterday  you  said  you 
had  no  money.'  '  I  had  that,'  he  answered, 
'  but  I  didn't  want  to  spend  it.  You  see  it  was 
a  gift  from  my  dyin'  mother,  and  I  wanted  to 
keep  it  for  her  sake.'  With  that  he  rolled  up 
his  eyes  and  looked  sanctimonious.  Then  I 
asked  him  how  it  happened  that  he  was  ready 
to  spend  it  now." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?" 

"  He  said  that  he  was  so  parched  with  thirst 
that  he  felt  obliged  to  do  it." 

"Did  you  take  his  money?" 

"  No.  I  was  short  of  change.  You  see  I 
changed  a  gold  piece  for  the  boy  yesterday. 
Eesides,  I  wasn't  sure  the  piece  was  good,  see 
ing  who  offered  it.  I  thought  it  might  be  bo- 
gus." 

"  Then  he  didn't  get  his  whisky  ?" 


ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD.  29 

"  No.  He  went  away  disappointed.  I  don't 
doubt,  Ernest,  that  the  gold  piece  was  one  of 
yours.  How  did  the  fellow  get  in  ?" 

"  Through  the  window.  I  found  it  open 
when  I  woke  up." 

"  You  must  have  slept  sound  ?" 

"  I  did.  I  slept  an  hour  later  than  I  gener 
ally  do." 

"  Was  anything  else  taken  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  could  discover." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  your  uncle  had 
but  ten  dollars  ?"  asked  Joe  incredulously. 

"  It  was  all  he  had  in  the  trunk." 

"  I  always  thought  him  a  rich  man." 

"  He  was  not,"  said  Ernest  quietly. 

"  Was  that  all  the  money  he  had  ?"  He  had 
the  reputation  of  being  a  miser,  with  hoards  of 
gold  hidden  in  or  near  the  cabin." 

"  I  know  of  one  sum  of  money  he  had  con 
cealed,  but  it  was  not  a  large  amount.  He  told 
me  about  it  before  he  died." 

"  I'm  glad  you  won't  be  left  penniless,  lad  ; 
did  he  own  the  cabin  ?" 

"  Nobody  owned  it,"  said  Joe  Marks.  "  It 
was  built  years  ago  by  a  man  who  suddenly 


30  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

left  it  and  went  away,  nobody  knew  where. 
It  wasn't  worth  much,  and  no  one  ever  took 
the   trouble  to  claim  it.     When  your  uncle 
came  here  he  found  it  empty  and  took  posses 
sion  of  it,  and  there  he  has  lived  ever  since. 
So  you'll  have  some  money,  Ernest?" 
"  Only  a  hundred  dollars." 
"  What  will  you  do?  What  are  your  plans  ?" 
"  I  don't  know.     I  haven't    had    time  to 
think." 

"  I  might  find  a  place  for  you  in  the  store. 
We  wouldn't  like  to  have  you  go  away." 

"  Thank  you,  Joe.  You  are  very  kind. 
But  there's  no  chance  for  me  around  here. 
I'll  take  the  money,  and  go  somewhere.  But 
first  I  must  see  Uncle  Peter  buried.  Will 
you  help  me?" 

"  To  be  sure  we  will.  Was  he  your  only 
relation?" 

"  He  was  not  my  relation  at  all." 
"  Why,  you  have  always  called  him  uncle." 
"  I  supposed  him  to  be  my  uncle,  but  yes 
terday  he  told  me  that  he  was  only  a  servant 
in  my  father's  family,  and  that  on  my  father's 
death  he  was  placed  in  charge  of  me." 


ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD.  31 

"  I  reckon  that's  so.  You  didn't  favor  the 
old  man  at  all.  You  look  as  if  you  came  from 
better  stock." 

"  All  the  same  I  shall  miss  him/'  said  Er 
nest  sadly.  "  He  was  a  good  friend  to  me, 
Peter  was." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  whether  you  had  any 
kin?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  a  cousin  of  my  father's  living 
in  New  York  State.  He  is  a  rich  man.  He 
inherited  the  property  that  ought  to  have  gone 
to  my  father." 

"  How  did  that  happen  ?" 

"  He  prejudiced  my  grandfather  against  my 
father,  and  so  the  estate  was  willed  to  him." 

"  The  mean  scoundrel !"  exclaimed  Luke  in 
dignantly.  "  I'd  like  to  have  him  in  my  hands 
for  a  few  minutes ;  I'd  give  him  a  lesson." 

"  I  should  pity  him  if  ever  you  got  hold  of 
him,  Luke,"  said  Joe  Marks.  "  But  we  must 
consider  what  we  can  do  for  the  boy." 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  hold  of  that  thief  of  a 
tramp !" 

"  Probably  we  shall.  He'll  find  his  way 
back  here  sooner  or  later." 


32  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

But  the  burial  of  Peter  Brant  was  the  first 
consideration.  No  undertaker  was  called,  for 
in  that  small  settlement  one  would  not  have 
been  supported.  The  ceremonies  of  death  were 
few  and  simple.  A  rude  wooden  box  was  put 
together,  and  Peter  was  placed  in  it,  dressed 
as  he  was  at  the  time  of  his  death.  There  was 
an  itinerant  minister  who  preached  in  the  vil 
lage  once  in  four  weeks,  but  he  was  away  now, 
and  so  there  could  be  no  religious  ceremony 
beyond  reading  a  chapter  from  the  New  Tes 
tament.  Joe  Marks,  who  had  received  a  de 
cent  education,  officiated  as  reader.  Then  the 
interment  took  place.  In  the  forenoon  of  the 
second  day  Peter's  body  was  laid  away,  and 
Ernest  was  left  practically  alone  in  the  world. 

Meanwhile  some  account  must  be  given  of 
Tom  Burns,  the  tramp. 

When  he  found  it  impossible  to  obtain 
whisky  with  the  gold  he  had  stolen,  he  felt 
very  despondent.  His  throat  was  parched,  and 
his  craving  became  intolerable.  He  felt  that 
he  had  been  decidedly  ill-used.  What  was  the 
use  of  money  unless  it  could  be  converted  into 
what  his  soul  desired  ?  But  there  was  no  way 


ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD.  33 

of  changing  the  coin  except  at  the  store  of  Joe 
Marks.  To  ask  any  of  the  villagers  would 
only  have  excited  surprise  and  suspicion.  Be 
sides,  the  tramp  felt  sure  that  Ernest  would 
soon  discover  that  he  had  been  robbed.  He 
would  naturally  be  suspected,  especially  as  Joe 
Marks  had  knowledge  of  a  gold  piece  being  in 
his  possession. 

There  was  a  small  settlement  about  five 
miles  off,  called  Daneboro.  It  was  probably 
the  nearest  place  where  he  could  get  a  glass 
of  whisky.  He  must  walk  there.  It  was  not 
a  pleasant  prospect,  for  the  tramp  was  lazy 
and  not  fond  of  walking,  though  he  had  been 
compelled  to  do  a  good  deal  of  it.  Still,  it 
seemed  to  be  a  necessity,  and  when  he  left  the 
store  of  Joe  Marks  he  set  out  for  Daneboro. 

Thirst  was  not  the  only  trouble  with  Tom 
Burns.  He  had  not  eaten  anything  for  about 
twenty-four  hours,  and  his  neglected  stomach 
rebelled.  He  tightened  a  girdle  about  his 
waist,  and  walked  on  in  great  discomfort.  He 
had  perhaps  gone  two  miles  when  he  came  to  a 
cabin  similar  in  appearance  to  that  of  old  Peter 
Brant.  A  woman  stood  in  the  door-way. 

3 


34        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  My  good  lady/'  said  Tom,  putting  on  a 
pitiful  expression,  "  I  am  a  very  unfortunate 


man." 


"  Are  you  ?"  said  the  woman,  scanning  him 
critically.  "  You  look  like  a  tramp." 

"  I  do,  madam,  yet  I  was  once  a  thriving 
merchant." 

"  You  don't  look  like  it." 

"  I  don't ;  I  acknowledge  it." 

"  How  did  you  lose  your  property,  if  you 
ever  had  any  ?" 

"  By  sign  in'  notes  for  my  brother.  It  swept 
off  all  my  possessions." 

"  Then  I  pity  you.  That's  the  way  my 
man  lost  five  hundred  dollars,  nearly  all  he 
had.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

"  Madam,  I  am  hungry,  very  hungry." 

"  Set  right  down  on  the  settle,  and  I'll  give 
you  what's  left  of  our  breakfast." 

Tom  Burns  obeyed  with  alacrity. 

A  plate  of  cold  bacon,  a  cold  potato,  and 
some  corn  bread  were  placed  before  him,  and 
he  ate  them  almost  voraciously.  There  had 
been  times  in  his  life  when  he  would  have 
turned  up  his  nose  at  such  fare,  but  not  now. 


ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD.  35 

"  My  good  lady,"  he  said,  "  you  have  saved 
my  life." 

"  Well,  you  must  V  been  hungry,"  said 
the  woman.  "  A  man  that'll  eat  cold  vittles, 
especially  cold  potato,  ain't  shammin'." 

"  I  wish  I  had  money  to  offer  you " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that,  you're  welcome. 
Can  I  do  anything  more  for  you  ?" 

"  I  feel  sick,  and  sometimes,  though  I  am 
a  temperance  man,  I  take  whisky  for  my 
health.  If  you  had  just  a  sup " 

"  Well,  we  haven't,  and  if  we  had  I  wouldn't 
give  you  any." 

"You  misjudge  me,  madam.  You  must 
not  think  I  am  a  drinker." 

"  It's  no  matter  what  I  think.  You  can't 
get  any  whisky  here." 

At  Daneboro  Tom  fared  better.  He  changed 
his  gold  piece,  drank  a  pint  of  whisky,  and 
the  next  day  retraced  his  steps  to  old  Peter's 
cabin.  He  felt  satisfied  that  somewhere  near 
the  cabin  there  were  treasures  concealed,  and 
he  meant  to  secure  them. 


36        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  TRAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN. 

WHEN  Peter  Brant  was  laid  away  under 
a  tree  not  far  from  the  cabin  where  he 
had  ended  his  days,  Ernest  felt  that  he  was  at 
liberty  to  begin  the  new  life  that  lay  before 
him.  Despite  the  natural  sadness  which  he 
felt  at  parting  with  his  old  friend,  he  looked 
forward  not  without  pleasant  anticipations  to 
the  future  and  what  it  might  have  in  store  for 
him. 

Oak  Forks  had  few  attractions  for  him. 
Time  had  often  dragged  wearily  with  him.  He 
had  a  literary  taste,  but  could  not  get  hold  of 
books.  Peter  Brant  had  about  a  dozen  vol 
umes,  none  of  which  he  had  read  himself,  but 
Ernest  had  read  them  over  and  over  again. 
None  of  the  neighbors  owned  any  books.  Oc 
casionally  a  newspaper  found  its  way  into  the 
settlement,  and  this,  when  it  came  into  Er- 


THE  TRAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN.        37 

nest's  hands,  was  devoured,  advertisements 
and  all. 

How,  then,  was  his  time  passed?  Partly 
in  hunting,  partly  in  fishing,  for  there  was  a 
small  river  two  miles  away  ;  but  one  could  not 
fish  or  hunt  all  the  time.  He  had  often  felt 
a  vague  yearning  to  go  to  Chicago,  or  New 
York,  or  anywhere  where  there  would  be  a 
broader  field  and  large  opportunities,  and  he 
had  broached  the  subject  to  Peter. 

"  I  can't  afford  to  go,  Ernest,"  the  old  man 
would  reply.  "  I  must  live  on  the  little- 1 
have,  for  I  am  to  old  to  work/' 

"  But  I  am  young.  I  can  work/'  the  boy 
would  answer. 

"  A  boy  like  you  couldn't  earn  much.  Wait 
till  I  am  dead  and  then  you  can  go  where  you 
like." 

This  would  always  close  the  discussion,  for 
Ernest  did  not  like  to  consider  such  a  contin 
gency.  Peter  represented  his  world,  for  he 
had  no  one  to  cling  to  except  the  man  whom 
he  supposed  to  be  his  uncle. 

Now,  however,  the  time  had  come  when  he 
could  go  forth  and  enter  upon  a  career.  Ac- 


38  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

cordingly  he  declined  Joe  Marks'  offer  to  take 
him  into  the  store.  He  understood  very  well 
that  it  was  only  meant  in  kindness,  and  that 
he  was  not  really  needed. 

"  You  don't  need  me,  Joe,"  he  said.  "  You 
are  very  kind,  but  there  must  be  real  work 
for  me  somewhere." 

"  Well,  my  lad,  I  won't  stand  in  your  way, 
but  I've  known  you  a  long  time,  and  I  shall 
hate  to  lose  sight  of  you." 

"  I'll  come  back  some  clay,  Joe — that  is,  if 
I  am  prosperous,  and  can." 

"  If  you  are  not  prosperous,  if  you  fall  sick, 
and  need  a  home  and  a  friend,  come  back, 
then.  Don't  forget  your  old  friend  Joe 
Marks." 

"  I  won't,  Joe,"  said  Ernest  heartily. 

"You've  got  another  friend  here,  Ernest," 
added  Luke  Bobbins.  "  I'm  a  poor  man,  and 
my  friendship  isn't  worth  much,  but  you  have 
it,  all  the  same." 

Ernest  grasped  the  hands  of  both.  He  felt 
that  each  was  a  friend  worth  having. 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  I  won't  forget  either 
of  you,"  he  said. 


THE  TRAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN.        39 

"  When  do  you  expect  to  go,  Ernest,  and 
where  ?"  asked  Joe  Marks. 

"  I  shall  get  away  to-morrow,  I  think,  but 
where  I  shall  go  I  can't  tell  yet." 

"  Do  you  need  any  money  ?" 

"  No ;  my  uncle  left  me  some." 

Ernest  had  not  yet  secured  the  gold,  but  he 
knew  exactly  where  it  was,  and  now  that  all 
his  business  was  ended,  he  felt  that  it  was 
time  to  possess  himself  of  it.  Accordingly  he 
took  a  spade  from  the  house  and  bent  his 
steps  in  the  direction  of  the  old  oak  tree. 

He  went  alone,  for  he  thought  it  best  not  to 
take  anyone  into  his  confidence.  Indeed  the 
only  persons  whom  he  would  have  thought  of 
trusting  were  Joe  Marks  and  Luke  Bobbins, 
and  they  were  both  employed,  Joe  in  his  store 
and  Luke  on  a  hunting  expedition. 

Arrived  at  the  tree,  Ernest  measured  off 
five  feet  in  the  direction  mentioned  by  Peter 
and  began  to  dig.  It  did  not  take  him  long 
to  reach  the  box,  for  it  was  only  a  foot  be 
neath  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

It  proved  to  be  a  cigar-box,  for  Peter  was 
fond  of  smoking,  though  he  usually  smoked 


40  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

a  pipe,  as  being  more  economical.  Ernest 
lifted  the  lid  and  saw  a  small  roll  enclosed  in 
brown  wrapping-paper,  which,  on  being  re 
moved,  revealed  twenty  five-dollar  gold  pieces. 
He  regarded  them  with  satisfaction,  for  they 
afforded  him  the  means  of  leaving  Oak  Forks 
and  going  out  into  the  great  world  which  he 
had  such  a  curiosity  to  enter. 

But  Ernest  was  not  the  only  one  who  re 
garded  the  gold  pieces  with  satisfaction. 

Hidden  behind  a  tree  only  a  few  feet  away 
was  a  person  with  whom  we  are  already  ac 
quainted.  It  was  Tom  Burns,  the  tramp  and 
vagabond. 

He,  too,  was  out  in  search  of  gold.  He  had 
come  from  Daneboro  and  was  prowling  round 
the  neighborhood,  searching  for  old  Peter's 
hidden  treasure.  He  had  deliberated  as  to 
whether  the  cabin  or  the  fields  was  the  more 
likely  place  to  have  been  selected.  He  had 
nothing  in  particular  to  guide  him.  He  did 
not,  however,  venture  to  approach  the  house 
just  yet,  as  it  would  probably  be  occupied  by 
Ernest. 

"  I  wish  I  knowed  where  the  old  man  hid 


THE  TKAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN.        41 

his  boodle,"  soliloquized  Tom.  "  I  can't  dig 
all  over." 

In  fact  digging  was  not  in  Tom's  line.  It 
was  too  much  like  work,  and  if  thereJfras  any 
thing  to  which  Tom  was  bitterly  opposed  it 
was  work  of  any  kind. 

"  The  boy  must  know.  Likely  the  old  man 
told  him,"  he  finally  concluded.  "  I'll  watch 
the  boy." 

He  feared  he  might  be  too  late.  Had  it 
been  his  own  case,  he  would  have  searched  for 
the  gold  immediately  after  the  funeral.  He 
naturally  supposed  that  Ernest  would  do  the 
same.  He  therefore  lost  no  time  in  prowling 
around  the  cabin,  with  the  especial  object  of 
watching  Ernest's  movements.  He  was  espe 
cially  favored,  as  he  thought,  when  from  a 
distance  he  saw  Ernest  leaving  the  cabin  with 
the  spade  in  his  hand. 

The  tramp's  heart  was  filled  with  joy. 

"  He  is  going  to  dig  for  the  treasure,"  he 
said.  "  I'll  keep  him  in  sight." 

Tom  Burns  had  no  difficulty  in  doing  this, 
for  Ernest  bent  his  steps  in  his  direction. 

"  I  hope  he  won't  discover  me,"  thought 


42        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEE. 

Burns;  "  at  any  rate,  not  till  I  find  out  where 
he's  going  to  dig." 

All  things  seemed  to  favor  the  tramp.  Er 
nest  stopped  when  he  came  to  the  oak  tree, 
and  it  was  evident  this  was  the  spot  of  which 
he  was  in  search. 

"  Why,  that's  where  I  was  lying  the  other 
night!"  thought  Burns.  "If  I  had  only 
knowed !  Why,  the  gold  was  right  under  me 
all  the  time.  If  I'd  found  it  then,  I  should 
have  gone  off  with  it  before  this  time.  How 
ever,  it  isn't  too  late  now." 

He  watched  with  subdued  eagerness  while 
Ernest  was  digging.  He  no  longer  doubted 
that  this  was  the  place  where  the  gold  was 
hidden.  Ernest  could  have  no  other  object 
in  digging  in  this  place. 

"  I  wonder  how  much  there  is,"  thought 
Burns.  "  There  ought  to  be  as  much  as  a 
thousand  dollars.  Perhaps  there's  two  or 
three.  But  even  if  there  is  only  a  thousand, 
it  will  set  me  on  my  feet.  I'll  soon  get  out 
of  this  neighborhood.  I'll  go  to  Chicago  or 
New  York,  and  I'll  live  in  clover.  I'll  make 
up  for  lost  time.  I've  been  a  vagabond  long 


THE  TRAMP  TURNS  UP  AGAIN.        43 

enough.  I'll  buy  some  new  clothes,  and  set 
up  as  a  respectable  man." 

When  Ernest  found  the  roll  of  coins,  and 
taking  them  out,  put  them  in  his  pocket,  he 
was  not  disappointed,  for  he  knew  what  to 
expect,  but  Tom  Burns  was  in  dismay. 

"  Only  a  hundred  dollars?"  he  soliloquized. 
"What's  a  hundred  dollars?  The  old  man 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself.  Why,  it 
isn't  respectable!" 

However,  one  thing  was  certain.  A  hun 
dred  dollars  was  better  than  nothing.  It 
would  take  him  to  Chicago,  and  enable  him 
to  live  in  comfort  for  a  while.  Besides,  he 
might  multiply  it  many  times  at  the  gaming 
table,  for  Tom  Burns  had  been  a  gambler  in 
his  day.  He  certainly  did  not  propose  to  dis 
dain  the  sum  which  fortune  had  placed  in  his 
way  simply  because  it  was  so  small.  Oh,  no, 
Tom  Burns  was  not  that  sort  of  a  man. 

Ernest  put  the  gold  pieces  in  his  pocket 
and  turned  to  go  back  to  the  cabin,  when  a 
voice  reached  him. 

"  Look  here,  boy,  I'll  trouble  you  to  hand 
over  that  money." 


44  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    CRITICAL    SITUATION. 

1HRNEST  turned  and  regarded  the  tramp 
J_J  in  amazement. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  I  want  that  money  you  just  dug  up,"  re 
plied  Tom  Burns  boldly. 

Instantly  Ernest  comprehended  his  danger. 
He  was  a  stout  boy,  but  the  tramp  was  a 
large  man,  weighing  probably  fifty  pounds 
more  than  himself.  Moreover,  he  looked  des 
perate  and  reckless.  The  boy  felt  that  in 
strength  he  was  no  match  for  the  thief  who 
confronted  him. 

Yet  he  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  allow 
ing  himself  to  be  robbed.  Left  penniless, 
how  could  he  carry  out  the  plans  which  he 
had  in  view  ?  He  tried  to  gain  time. 

"  Do  you  want  to  rob  me  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  have  just  as  much  right  to  that  money 
as  you,"  said  the  tramp. 


A  CRITICAL  SITUATION.  45 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out  ?" 

"  The  man  who  put  it  there  owed  me 
money." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  a  fool  to  believe  that 
ridiculous  story  ?" 

"You'd  better  be  careful  how  you  talk," 
said  Burns  menacingly.  "What  I  say  I 


mean." 


"  Then  all  I  can  say  is  that  you  have  told 
a  falsehood.  You  are  the  man,  I  suppose, 
who  entered  our  cabin  at  night  and  stole 
money  out  of  a  trunk." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  your  trunk," 
said  Burns  mendaciously.  "  But  I  have  no 
time  to  talk — I  want  that  money." 

Ernest  looked  about  him,  hoping  to  see 
some  one  to  whom  he  could  appeal  for  help, 
but  no  one  appeared  in  sight.  Next  he 
looked  at  the  tramp,  to  note  if  he  were 
armed.  To  his  relief  Burns  did  not  appear 
to  have  any  weapon  with  him.  Rapidly  he 
determined  not  to  give  up  the  money  without 
a  struggle. 

"  I  won't  give  up  the  money  to  a  thief,"  he 
said  boldly. 


46        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

As  he  spoke  lie  turned  and  ran  as  fast  as  lie 
was  able. 

Tom  Burns  uttered  an  execration  and  pre 
pared  to  pursue  him. 

Winged  with  fear  of  losing  his  gold,  Er 
nest  flew  rather  than  ran,  not  heeding  the  di 
rection  he  was  taking.  The  tramp  accepted 
the  challenge  and  put  forth  his  utmost  speed 
in  the  hope  of  overtaking  him. 

"You'll  pay  for  this,  boy,"  he  growled. 
"  Just  let  me  catch  you." 

But  Ernest  did  not  mean  to  be  caught.  Be 
ing  a  fast  runner  for  a  boy  of  his  size,  lie 
bade  fair  to  out-distance  his  pursuer.  But  di 
rectly  in  his  path  was  an  excavation  of  con 
siderable  size  and  depth.  Ernest  paused  on 
the  brink  to  consider  whether  to  descend  the 
sloping  sides  or  to  go  round  it.  The  delay 
was  fatal.  The  tramp  saw  his  advantage,  and, 
pushing  forward,  seized  him  by  the  collar. 

"  I've  caught  you !"  he  cried,  triumphantly. 
"  Now  give  me  the  money." 

There  was  a  brief  struggle,  but  a  boy,  even 
a  strong  boy,  was  no  match  for  a  man  taller 
and  heavier  than  himself.  The  gold  pieces 


A  CRITICAL  SITUATION.  47 

were  snatched  from  him,  and  the  tramp,  re 
leasing  his  hold,  was  about  to  make  off  in  tri 
umph  when  he  found  himself  seized  in  turn. 

""Why,  you  contemptible  thief!"  exclaimed 
Luke  Bobbins,  for  it  was  he  whose  opportune 
coming  had  saved  Ernest  from  being  plun 
dered.  "  Are  you  trying  to  rob  the  boy  ?" 

He  seized  the  tramp  by  the  collar,  forced 
him  to  give  up  the  gold  he  had  just  snatched 
from  Ernest,  and  flung  him  on  his  back. 

The  tramp's  surprise  deepened  to  dismay 
when,  looking  up,  he  saw  the  stalwart  hunter 
with  stern  face  looking  down  upon  him. 

"  It  was  my  money,"  he  whined. 

"  Your  money,  you  owdacious  liar !  Don't 
tell  me  that  or  I'll  treat  you  worse." 

"  But  it  was.  I  had  hidden  it  under  a  tree. 
I  came  along  just  as  the  boy  dug  it  up.  I  told 
him  to  give  it  to  me,  for  it  was  mine,  but  he 
wouldn't,  and  then  I  chased  him." 

"What's  the  truth  of  the  matter,  Ernest?" 
asked  Luke. 

"It  was  money  that  Peter  Brant  had  hidden 
away.  He  told  me  on  his  deathbed  where  to 
look  for  it." 


48        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  thought  it  was  Peter's." 

"I  had  just  dug  it  up  and  put  it  in  my 
pocket  when  this  man  came  along.  He  or 
dered  me  to  give  it  him." 

"Did  he  say  he  hid  it  there?" 

"  No.  He  said  that  Peter  owed  him  money, 
and  he  wanted  it." 

"  You  appear  to  be  a  very  ingenious  liar," 
remarked  Luke,  turning  to  the  tramp.  "  Which 
of  these  stories  do  you  want  me  to  believe  ?" 

"  I  hid  it  there !"  said  the  tramp,  doggedly. 

"  Then  why  did  you  tell  the  boy  that  Peter 
owed  you  money  ?" 

"  Because  I  didn't  think  he  would  believe 
that  I  hid  it." 

"  You  are  right  there.  He  don't  believe  it, 
nor  do  I.  One  thing  more — were  you  the 
man  that  broke  into  his  cabin  and  stole  two 
gold  pieces  from  his  trunk  ?" 

"  No.     I  don't  know  anything  about  it." 

"  Of  course  you  would  deny  it.  All  the 
same,  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  were  the 


man." 


"  If  I  had  done  it  he  would  have  seen  me." 
"  That  won't   go   down.     He   was   asleep. 


A  CRITICAL  SITUATION.  49 

Ernest,  what  shall  I  do  with  this  fellow? 
Shall  I  shoot  him?"  and  Luke  Bobbins  pulled 
out  a  revolver,  which  he  handled  in  a  signifi 
cant  way. 

"  Don't  shoot !  Spare  my  life,  Mr.  Rob- 
bins  !"  cried  the  tramp,  in  great  alarm. 

"  Humph !  I  don't  see  the  good.  Your 
life  is  of  no  value  to  the  world." 

"  Let  him  go,  Luke,"  said  Ernest,  "but  tell 
him  to  clear  out  of  this  neighborhood." 

"  It  is  treating  him  too  well.  Still,  I  will 
do  as  you  say.  Hark,  you  fellow,  what  is 
your  name?" 

"  Tom  Burns." 

"  You  are  a  disgrace  to  the  name  of  Burns. 
If  I  spare  your  life  will  you  leave  this  neigh 
borhood  and  never  come  back  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  answered  the  tramp,  earnestly. 

"  You'd  better  keep  that  promise.  If  I 
ever  catch  sight  of  you  again,  I'll  shoot  with 
out  asking  you  any  questions.  Now  get  /" 

Tom  Burns  got  up  and  started  away  with 
celerity.  He  thought  it  wise  to  put  as  great 
a  distance  as  possible  between  himself  and  the 

tall   and   stalwart   hunter,   fearing    that    he 

4 


50        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER, 

would  repent  his  leniency  and  end  his  life  by 
a  stray  bullet. 

"  I'll  scare  him  a  little/'  said  Luke. 

He  fired  after  the  fugitive,  taking  care  not 
to  hit  him,  however.  Tom  Burns  heard  the 
bullet  whistling  by  his  head,  and  with  a  cry 
of  terror  increased  his  speed  till  he  reached  a 
place  where  he  felt  secure.  Then,  sinking 
down  on  the  ground,  he  uttered  an  ejaculation 
of  relief. 

"  That  is  a  terrible  man !"  he  panted. 
"  He'd  as  soon  take  my  life  as  not.  I  won't 
get  in  his  way  again  if  I  can  help  it." 

Luke  Bobbins  laughed. 

"That  is  my  parting  message,"  he  said. 
"  Well,  Ernest,  where  do  you  want  to  go  ? 
What  are  your  plans?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Ernest,  gravely. 
"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  any  plans.  I  feel 
upset  completely." 

"  Sit  down  here  and  I'll  talk  to  you." 

He  pointed  to  a  little  ridge  which  would 
servo  as  a  seat. 

The  two  sat  down  together. 

"  Now,  how  much  money  have  you  got  ?" 


A  CRITICAL  SITUATION.  51 

"  A  hundred  dollars/' 

"  It  isn't  much.    Is  that  all  your  uncle  left  ?" 

"  I  think  so.  He  said  nothing  about  hav 
ing  more." 

"  It  isn't  much  to  begin  the  world  with.  1 
wish  for  your  sake,  boy,  that  I  had  some  to 
give  you,  but  I  never  knew  how  to  get  to 
gether  money." 

"  I  guess  it  will  do,  Luke.  I  have  health 
and  strength.  I  think  I  can  make  my  way." 

"  But  you  have  no  trade." 

"  Have  you  ?" 

No,  Ernest.  You've  got  me  there.  I  am 
only  a  hunter,  but  I  don't  make  much  of  a 
living.  I  don't  recommend  you  to  follow  in 
my  steps.  I'd  like  to  keep  you  with  me,  but 
it  wouldn't  pay  you." 

"  One  thing  is  certain,  Luke.  I  must  get 
away  from  here.  There  is  nothing  I  can  do 
in  Oak  Forks." 

"  Where  do  you  want  to  go,  lad  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  might  go  eastward  to 
Chicago  or  New  York,  or  I  might  go  West  to 
California.  Have  you  ever  been  to  either 
place,  Luke?" 


52        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  No,  lad,  but  if  I  had  my  choice  I'd  go 
westward.  I've  heard  fine  stories  of  Cali 
fornia.  I  think  I  should  like  to  see  that  land, 
and  push  on  to  the  Pacific  ocean." 

"Why  don't  you  go?" 

"  Stop  a  minute !     Let  me  think  !" 

The  hunter  assumed  a  thoughtful  look.  He 
remained  silent  for  five  minutes.  Then  he 
said,  as  if  to  himself,  "Why  not?" 

Ernest  still  kept  silence,  but  his  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  face  of  the  hunter. 

Finally  Luke  looked  up. 

"  How  do  you  want  to  go,  lad  ?"  he  asked. 
"  Do  you  want  to  go  by  the  railroad,  or  are 
you  in  for  a  tramp  over  the  mountains  and 
plains?" 

"  That  depends  on  whether  I  am  to  go  alone 
or  not.  If  I  go  alone  I  shall  prefer  to  go  by 
rail." 

"  Are  you  in  for  a  long  tramp  with  me  ?" 
asked  Luke,  his  face  glowing  with  new-born 
enthusiasm. 

"  I  will  go  anywhere  with  you,  Luke." 

"  Then  it  is  agreed.  We  will  start  to-mor 
row." 


ON  THE  EOAD.  53 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ON    THE    ROAD. 

VTOTHING  could  have  pleased  Ernest  bet- 
JL\  ter  than  to  travel  with  the  companion 
ship  of  Luke  Bobbins.  He  felt  that  he  should 
be  safe  with  the  sturdy  hunter,  who  was  strong, 
resolute,  and  reliable. 

True,  he  was  not  a  man  who  had  succeeded, 
as  men  reckon  success.  He  had  lived  comfort 
ably,  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  to  lay 
up  money,  nor  indeed  had  he  had  any  oppor 
tunity  to  do  so.  He  mentioned  this  as  an  ob 
jection  to  the  trip  which  he  had  himself  pro 
posed. 

"  My  lad,"  he  said,  "  I  am  afraid  I  can't  go 
with  you,  after  all." 
"  Why  not,  Luke  ?" 

"  Because  you're  rich,  compared  with  me." 
"  I  have  but  a  hundred  dollars." 
"  And  I — well,  lad,  I'm  ashamed  to  say  so, 
but  I  have  only  fifteen." 


54        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  We'll  share  and  share  alike,  Luke." 

"  No,  lad.  Luke  Robbins  is  too  proud  to 
live  upon  a  boy.  I  reckon  I'd  better  stay  at 
home." 

"  But  I  want  you  to  go  and  take  care  of  me, 
Luke.  How  can  I  travel  alone  ?" 

Luke  brightened  up. 

"  That  puts  a  different  face  on  it,  Ernest. 
If  you  think  you  need  me,  I'll  go." 

"  I  do  need  you." 

"  Then  go  I  will ;  but  one  thing  is  under 
stood — I  won't  take  any  of  your  money." 

"  There  won't  be  any  trouble  on  that  score, 
Luke." 

So  the  two  prepared  for  their  trip.  Ernest, 
with  Luke's  help,  purchased  an  outfit,  and  on 
the  morning  of  the  third  day  the  two  started 
out  together,  neither  having  a  very  definite 
idea  where  they  were  going  except  that  their 
course  was  westward. 

Luke  knew  very  little  of  the  States  and  Ter 
ritories  that  lay  between  Oak  Forks  and  the 
Pacific  coast.  Ernest,  whose  education  was 
decidedly  superior  to  his  companion's,  was  able 
to  give  him  some  information.  So  they  plod- 


ON  THE  ROAD.  55 

ded  on,  making  slow  progress,  but  enjoying 
the  unconventional  life,  and  the  scenery  on 
the  way. 

They  were  in  no  hurry.  They  stopped  to 
hunt  and  fish,  and  when  the  weather  was  unfa 
vorable  they  stayed  overnight  at  some  way 
side  cabin.  When  the  nights  were  fine  they 
camped  out,  and  enjoyed  a  sound  rest  under 
the  open  canopy  of  heaven. 

Part  of  their  way  led  through  woods  and 
over  prairies,  but  here  and  there  they  came  to 
a  thriving  village.  There  was  little  occasion 
to  spend  money,  but  still  they  were  compelled 
to  use  some. 

One  day — it  was  some  weeks  from  the  time 
when  they  started — Luke  turned  to  Ernest 
with  a  sober  face. 

"  Ernest,"  he  said,  "  I  think  you'll  have  to 
leave  me  at  the  next  poor-house." 

"Why,  Luke?" 

"  Because  my  money  is  nearly  all  gone.  I 
started  with  fifteen  dollars.  Now  I  have  but 


one." 


But  I  have  plenty  left." 
That  doesn't  help  me." 


56        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  want  to  share  it  with  you,  Luke." 

"  Don't  you  remember  what  I  said  when  we 
set  out,  lad  ?" 

"What  was  it  ?" 

"  That  I  would  not  touch  a  dollar  of  your 
money." 

"  Then  do  you  mean  to  leave  me  alone, 
Luke?"  pleaded  Ernest  reproachfully. 

"  You  are  a  boy  and  I  am  a  man.  I'm  forty 
years  old,  Ernest.  Is  it  right  that  I  should 
live  on  a  boy  less  than  half  my  age  ?" 

Ernest  looked  at  him  in  perplexity. 

"  Is  there  no  way  of  getting  more  money  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  If  we  were  in  California  now,  and  at  the 
mines,  I  might  make  shift  to  fill  my  purse ; 
but  there  are  no  mines  hereabouts." 

"  Let  us  keep  on,  and  something  may  turn 
up." 

When  this  conversation  took  place  they 
were  approaching  Emmonsville,  a  thriving 
town  in  Nebraska.  As  they  walked  through 
.the  principal  street,  it  was  clear  that  something 
had  happened  which  had  created  general  ex 
citement.  Groups  of  people  were  talking 


ON  THE  ROAD.  57 

earnestly,  and  their  faces  wore  a  perturbed  and 
anxious  look. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  asked  Luke,  address 
ing  a  well-to-do  appearing  man. 

"  Haven't  you  heard  of  the  bank  robbery 
over  at  Lee's  Falls  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Two  men,  fully  armed,  rode  up  to  the  door, 
and,  dismounting,  entered  the  bank.  One 
stepped  up  to  the  window  of  the  paying  teller, 
and  covering  him  with  his  revolver,  demanded 
five  thousand  dollars.  At  the  same  time  the 
other  stood  in  the  doorway,  also  with  a  loaded 
revolver." 

"Why  didn't  the  teller  shoot  him  down?" 
asked  Luke. 

"  My  friend,  bank  officers  are  not  provided 
with  loaded  revolvers  when  on  duty.  Be 
sides,  the  ruffian  had  the  drop  on  him." 

"  Well  ?"  asked  Luke. 

"  What  could  the  teller  do  ?  Life  is  more 
than  money,  and  he  had  no  alternative.  The 
fellow  got  the  money." 

"  Did  he  get  away  with  it  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  they  both  mounted  their  horses  and 


58        THE  YOUXG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

rode  off,  no  one  daring  to  interfere.  Each 
held  his  revolver  in  readiness  to  shoot  the  first 
man  that  barred  his  way." 

"  Where  did  you  say  this  happened  ?" 

"  At  Lee's  Falls." 

"  Is  it  near  at  hand  ?" 

"  It  is  fifteen  miles  away." 

"  But  why  should  that  robbery  create  ex 
citement  here?" 

"  Because  we  have  a  bank  here,  and  we  are 
expecting  a  visit  from  the  same  parties." 

"  Who  are  they  ?" 

"  They  are  supposed  to  be  the  Fox  brothers 
two  of  the  most  notorious  criminals  in  the 
West.  Numberless  stories  are  told  of  their 
bold  robberies,  both  from  individuals  and 
from  banks." 

"  How  long  have  these  fellows  been  preying 
upon  the  community  ?" 

"We  have  heard  of  them  hereabouts  for 
three  years.  It  is  said  they  came  from  Mis 


souri." 


"Is  there  no  one   brave   enough    or  bold 
enough  to  interfere  with  them  ?" 

"  More  than  one  has  tried  it,  but  no  one  has 


ON  THE  EOAD.  59 

succeeded.  Twice  they  were  captured  by  a 
posse  of  men,  but  in  each  case  they  broke  jail 
before  it  was  time  for  the  trial. 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  haven't  many  men  of 
spirit  in  Nebraska." 

"  Perhaps  you  think  you  would  be  a  match 
for  them,"  said  the  citizen  in  a  sarcastic 
tone. 

Luke  Robbins  smiled  and  handled  his  re 
volver  in  a  significant  way. 

"  If  you  think  you  can  kill  or  capture  them, 
stranger,  there's  a  chance  to  make  a  good  sum 
of  money." 
'    "How  is  that?" 

•  "  A  thousand  dollars  is  offered  for  either, 
'•lead  or  alive." 

"  A  thousand  dollars!"  repeated  Luke,  his 
face  glowing  with  excitement.  "Is  that 
straight  ?" 

"  It  will  be  paid  cheerfully.  You  can  bet 
on  that." 

"Who  offers  it?" 

"  The  Governor  of  the  State." 

Luke  Bobbins  became  thoughtful  and  re 
mained  silent. 


60  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Did  you  hear  that,  lad  ?"  he  asked,  when 
he  and  Ernest  were  alone. 

"  Yes,  Luke." 

"  A  thousand  dollars  would  do  us  a  great 
deal  of  good." 

"  That  is  true,  Luke,  but  it  would  be  as 
much  as  your  life  is  worth  to  hunt  the  rascals." 

"  Don't  try  to  make  a  coward  of  me,  Er 
nest." 

"  I  couldn't  do  that,  Luke.  I  only  want 
you  to  be  prudent." 

"  Listen,  lad.  I  want  that  thousand  dol 
lars,  and  I'm  going  to  make  a  try  for  it.  Come 
along  with  me." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  To  the  bank.  I'm  going  to  have  a  talk 
with  the  officers,  and  then  I'll  decide  what  to 
do." 


THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE.  61 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE    QUAKER    DETECTIVE. 

AT  the  Emmonsville  bank  they  were  on 
their  guard.  The  expectation  of  a  visit 
from  the  Fox  brothers  caused  anxiety  and  ap 
prehension.  The  evil  reputation  of  these  men, 
and  their  desperate  character,  made  them 
formidable. 

When  Luke  Bobbins  entered  the  place  he 
was  regarded  with  suspicion.  His  hunting- 
costume  was  not  unlike  that  of  a  bandit.  But 
the  fact  that  he  had  a  young  companion  tended 
to  disarm  suspicion.  No  one  could  suspect 
Ernest  of  complicity  with  outlaws,  and  the 
Fox  brothers  had  never  been  known  to  carry 
a  boy  with  them. 

Luke  was  unused  to  banks.  So  far  as  he 
knew,  he  had  never  entered  one  before.  He 
looked  around  him  in  uncertainty,  and  finally 
approached  the  window  of  the  receiving  teller. 


62        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Are  you  the  boss  of  this  institution  ?"  he 
asked. 

The  teller  smiled. 

"  No/'  he  said.  Perhaps  you  want  to  see 
the  president  ?" 

"  I  guess  he's  the  man." 

"  If  you  will  give  me  a  hint  of  the  nature 
of  your  business,  I  will  speak  to  him." 

"  I  hear  you're  expectin'  a  visit  from  the 
Fox  brothers." 

"  Have  you  anything  to  do  with  them  ?" 
asked  the  teller  with  some  suspicion. 

"  I  want  to  have  something  to  do  with 
them,"  returned  Luke. 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  mean.  I  hear 
there's  a  big  reward  out  for  their  capture." 

"  A  thousand  dollars." 

"  I  want  that  thousand  dollars,  and  I  want 
it  bad." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  become  en 
titled  to  it.  Any  one  who  will  rid  the  State 
of  either  of  these  notorious  outlaws  will  richly 
deserve  it." 

"  That's  the  business  I  came  about.     Now 


THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE.  63 

can  I  see  the  president,  if  that's  what  you  call 
him?" 

"  Wait  a  minute  and  I  will  find  out." 

The  teller  went  to  an  inner  room,  and  re 
turned  with  a  stout,  gray-headed  man  of  about 
fifty. 

He  looked  curiously  at  Luke  through  the 
window.  Then,  as  if  reassured,  he  smiled. 

"  I  understand  you  want  to  see  me,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes." 

"  About  the  Fox  brothers  ?" 

"  You're  right  there,  'squire." 

"Go  to  the  last  door  and  I  will  admit 
^ou." 

Luke  Bobbins  did  as  directed,  and  soon 
found  himself  in  the  office  of  the  president  of 
the  bank. 

"  You  are  anxious  to  secure  the  reward 
offered  for  the  capture  of  these  outlaws,  I  be 
lieve." 

"  That's  straight." 

"  Why  do  you  come  to  me,  then  ?" 

"Because  a  man  told  me  you  expected  a 
visit  from  them." 


64        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  That  is  not  quite  exact.  I  don't  expect  a 
visit,  but  I  am  afraid  they  may  take  it  into 
their  heads  to  call  here." 

"Suppose  they  do." 

A  shade  of  anxiety  appeared  upon  the  face 
of  the  president. 

"  We  should  try  to  foil  their  plans,"  he 
answered. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  me  on  hand 
when  they  come  ?" 

The  president  looked  over  Luke  Bobbins 
carefully.  He  was  impressed  by  his  bold, 
resolute  air,  and  muscular  figure.  Evidently 
he  would  be  a  dangerous  man  to  meet. 

"  You  are  a  strong,  resolute  fellow,  I  judge,^ 
he  said  thoughtfully. 

"  Try  me  and  see." 

"  You  would  not  be  afraid  to  meet  these 
villains  single-handed?" 

"  I  never  saw  the  man  yet  that  I  was  afraid 
to  meet." 

"  So  far,  so  good,  but  it  is  not  so  much 
strength  that  is  needed  as  quickness.  A  weak 
man  is  more  than  a  match  for  a  strong  one  if 
he  gets  the  drop  on  him." 


THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE.  65 

"  That's  so,  but  I  reckon  it'll  take  a  smart 
man  to  get  the  drop  on  me.'* 

"  What  have  you  to  propose  ?  I  suppose 
you  have  formed  some  plan." 

"  I  would  like  to  stay  around  the  bank,  and 
be  on  the  watch  for  these  fellows." 

"  Remain  here  and  I  will  consult  with  the 
cashier." 

Five  minutes  later  the  president  rejoined  his 
visitor. 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  securing  your  serv 
ices,"  he  said,  "  if  it  can  be  done  without  ex 
citing  suspicion.  In  your  present  dress  your 
mission  would  at  once  be  guessed,  and  the  out 
laws  would  be  on  their  guard.  Have  you  any 
objection  to  changing  your  appearance  ?" 

"  Not  a  particle.  All  I  want  is  to  get  a 
lick  at  them  outlaws." 

"  Then  I  think  we  shall  have  to  make  you 
a  little  less  formidable.  Have  you  any  ob 
jections  to  becoming  a  Quaker  ?" 

Luke  Robbins  laughed. 

"  What !  one  of  those  broad-brimmed  fel 
lows?"  he  said. 

"  Yes." 

5 


66        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Will  I  look  the  character  ?" 

"  Dress  will  accomplish  a  good  deal.  I  will 
tell  you  what  put  the  idea  into  my  head.  We 
used  to  employ  as  janitor  an  old  Quaker — a 
good,  honest,  reliable  man.  He  was  about 
your  build.  A  year  since  he  died,  but  we 
have  hanging  up  in  my  office  the  suit  he  was 
accustomed  to  wear.  Put  it  on,  and  it  will 
make  a  complete  change  in  your  appearance. 
Your  face  will  hardly  correspond  to  your 
dress,  but  those  who  see  the  garb  won't  look 
any  further." 

"  That's  all  right,  boss.  I  don't  care  how 
you  dress  me  up.  But  what  will  I  do  ?" 

"  I  think  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  keep 
near  the  bank,  watching  carefully  all  who  ap 
proach.  You  never  saw  the  Fox  brothers,  I 
presume?" 

"  I  never  had  that  pleasure." 

"  Most  people  don't  regard  it  as  a  pleasure. 
I  will  give  you  some  description  of  them, 
which  may  help  you  to  identify  them.  One 
is  a  tall  man,  very  nearly  as  tall  as  yourself; 
the  other  is  at  least  three  inches  shorter. 
Both  have  dark  hair,  which  they  wear  long. 


THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE,  67 

They  have  a  swaggering  walk,  and  look  their 
real  characters." 

"  I  don't  think  it'll  be  hard  to  spot  them. 
They  generally  ride  on  horseback,  don't  they  ?" 

"  Generally,  but  not  always.  They  rode 
into  Lee's  Falls  and  up  to  the  bank  entrance 
on  horseback.  Perhaps  for  that  reason  they 
may  appear  in  different  guise  here." 

"  You  haven't  any  pictures  of  them,  have 
you?" 

The  president  laughed. 

"  No  one  was  ever  bold  enough  to  invite 
them  into  a  photographer's  to  have  their  pic 
tures  taken,"  he  said. 

"  I  see.    Well,  I  think  I  shall  know  them." 

"  Perhaps  not.  They  often  adopt  dis 
guises." 

"  They  won't  come  as  Quakers  ?" 

"  That  is  hardly  likely.  I  can  give  you 
one  help.  However  they  may  be  dressed, 
their  eyes  will  betray  them.  They  have 
flashing  black  ones,  and  sharp,  aquiline 


noses." 


"  I'll  know  them,"  said  Luke  confidently. 
"  I  observe  that  you  have  a  boy  with  you?3 


68        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Yes." 

"  Is  it  your  son  ?" 

"  No ;  I  wish  he  were.  I'd  be  proud  to 
have  such  a  son  as  that." 

"  Perhaps  we  can  use  him.  The  bank 
messenger — a  young  man — is  sick,  and  he 
can  take  his  place  temporarily." 

"  Is  there  any  pay  for  such  work  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  small.  We  will  give  him 
ten  dollars  a  week.  Of  course  he  must  be 
honest  and  trustworthy." 

"  I'll  stake  my  life  on  that  boy,  boss,"  said 
Luke  warmly. 

"  His  appearance  is  in  his  favor.  Will  you 
call  him  ?" 

Ernest  was  waiting  in  the  doorway.  He 
was  anxious  to  learn  the  result  of  Luke's  in 
terview  with  the  president  of  the  bank.  He 
had  thought  it  very  doubtful  whether  his  pro 
posal  would  be  looked  upon  favorably,  but 
hoped  some  good  might  come  of  it. 

"The  boss  wants  to  see  you,"  announced 
Luke. 

"  All  right ;  I  will  follow  you.  What  luck 
are  you  meeting  with,  Luke  ?" 


THE  QUAKER  DETECTIVE.  69 

"  Good.  I've  hired  out  to  the  bank  as  a 
Quaker  detective." 

Ernest  stared  at  his  companion  in  astonish 
ment.  He  thought  it  was  a  joke. 

When  he  came  into  the  presence  of  the 
president  the  latter  said,  "  I  understand  from 
your  friend  here  that  you  would  like  employ 
ment?" 

"I  should,"  answered  Ernest  promptly. 

"  The  post  of  bank  messenger  is  tempo 
rarily  vacant.  Would  you  like  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  you  think  I  can  fill  it." 

"  You  are  rather  young  for  the  place,  but  I 
think  you  will  fill  it  satisfactorily.  We  will 
instruct  you  in  the  duties." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  I  accept  it  with  thanks." 

"  Of  course  it  is  necessary  that  you  should 
be  honest  and  reliable.  But  upon  those  points 
I  have  no  doubt.  Your  face  speaks  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  When  do  you  wish  me 
to  begin  my  duties  ?" 

"  To-morrow.  I  suppose  you  are  not  as  yet 
provided  with  a  boarding-place.  ^You  can 
get  settled  to-day,  and  report  at  the  bank  to 
morrow  morning  at  nine." 


70  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Wait  here  a  minute,  Ernest,"  said  Luke. 
"  I  will  join  you  at  once." 

When  Luke  emerged  from  the  president's 
room  he  was  attired  in  the  Quaker  costume 
of  his  predecessor.  Ernest  stared  at  him  for 
a  moment,  then  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  Why  does  thee  laugh  ?"  asked  Luke 
mildly. 

This  sent  Ernest  into  a  second  convulsion. 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  man  of  peace  ?"  asked 
Luke. 

"  Yes ;  shall  you  live  up  to  the  character?" 

"  Until  I  see  the  Fox  brothers.  Then  the 
lamb  will  become  a  lion." 


AN  ARMED  ESCORT.  71 

CHAPTER  IX. 

AN    ARMED    ESCORT. 

T  UKE  ROBBINS  entered  at  once  upon 
I  J  his  duties  as  janitor  of  the  Eramonsville 
bank.  It  was  rather  difficult,  however,  to 
supply  him  with  employment  enough  to  ac 
count  for  his  being  in  constant  attendance. 

He  was  provided  with  a  broom,  and  in  the 
morning  swept  the  bank.  Sometimes  he 
washed  the  windows ;  at  other  times  he  sat  on 
a  bench  in  the  rear  of  the  bank,  ready  for  any 
call  upon  his  services.  So  far  as  garb  went, 
he  resembled  a  Quaker,  but  his  brown  face 
and  sharp  eyes  hardly  harmonized  with  his 
assumed  character.  Still  less  did  the  revolver 
which  he  carried  in  an  inside  pocket. 

Several  days  passed,  and  though  Luke  kept 
a  sharp  lookout  for  the  Fox  brothers,  he  did 
not  catch  a  glimpse  of  anyone  who  suggested 
or  resembled  them. 

Then  one  morning  Luke  went  to  the  bank 
as  usual  and  put  on  his  Quaker  garb. 


72        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

About  eleven  o'clock  an  elderly  man  ap 
peared  and  presented  a  check  for  five  hun 
dred  dollars.  The  money  was  paid  him,  and 
then  he  lingered  a  moment,  ill  at  ease. 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  so  much  money  about 
me,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  betrayed  anxiety. 

"  No  doubt  you  will  find  plenty  who  would 
be  willing  to  relieve  you  of  it,"  rejoined  the 
paying  teller,  with  a  smile. 

"  That's  what  I  am  afraid  of.  They  do  say 
that  the  Fox  brothers  have  been  seen  not  far 
away." 

"  Is  it  absolutely  necessary  that  you  should 
have  the  money  in  your  possession  ?  You 
could  leave  it  in  the  bank,  or  most  of  it." 

"  I  shall  want  to  use  some  of  it  to-morrow, 
and  I  live  ten  miles  away — in  Claremont." 

"  How  are  you  going  back  ?" 

"  I  have  a  buggy  outside." 

"  The  road  to  Claremont  is  rather  lonely,  I 
believe." 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  don't  you  get  some  one  to  go  with 

you?" 

"  I  don't  know  any  one  I  could  get." 


AN  ARMED  ESCORT.  73 

"  I  can  find  you  a  companion,  but  he  would 
want  to  be  paid." 

"  I'll  pay  him  if  he'll  see  me  through  all 
right." 

"  I  have  the  very  man  for  you.  Here, 
Luke!" 

Luke  Bobbins  heard  the  call  and  ap 
proached. 

"  The  farmer  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"  A  Quaker  ?"  he  said,  in  a  disappointed 
tone. 

"  He  is  no  more  a  Quaker  than  you  are. 
He  is  a  detective,  and  very  anxious  to  meet 
either  of  the  Fox  brothers." 

The  farmer  brightened  up. 

"  He's  the  man  I'm  after,  then." 

A  bargain  was  struck  between  Luke  and 
Ezekiel  Mason,  whereby  the  farmer  promised 
to  pay  him  five  dollars  to  accompany  him 
home  and  remain  over  night  at  the  farm-house 
until  he  had  disposed  of  the  money  the  way 
he  intended. 

Luke  was  glad  to  accept  the  proposal.  It 
promised  variety,  and  possibly  adventure. 
The  farmer  climbed  into  the  buggy,  and  the 


74        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Quaker  detective,  following,  took  a  seat  by 
his  side. 

After  they  had  driven  some  time  they 
reached  a  part  of  the  road  where  for  a  clear 
mile  in  advance  there  was  not  a  house  or 
building  of  any  kind  to  be  seen. 

"  This  is  the  place  I  was  most  afraid  of," 
said  the  farmer. 

"  Yes,  it  seems  to  be  lonely.  I  wish  one  of 
the  Fox  brothers  would  happen  along." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  the  farmer,  in  a  tone  of 
alarm. 

"  Because  I  would  like  to  tackle  him." 

"  Why  are  you  so  anxious  to  tackle  him  ?  I 
cannot  understand." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you,  my  honest  friend. 
There  is  a  reward  of  a  thousand  dollars  of 
fered  for  the  capture  of  one  of  these  famous 
outlaws,  dead  or  alive." 

Ezekiel  Mason  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I'd  rather  earn  the  money  some  other 
way !"  he  said. 

"  You  are  only  a  peaceful  farmer,  while  I 
am  a  fighting  Quaker,"  responded  Luke. 

As  he  spoke  he  looked  up  the  road,  and  his 


AN  ARMED  ESCORT.  75 

glance  fell  upon  a  short,  compactly  built  man, 
in  a  gray  suit,  who  was  walking  towards  them. 
He  seemed  a  quiet,  commonplace  person,  but 
there  was  something  about  him  that  attracted 
Luke's  attention. 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ?"  he  asked  ab 
ruptly. 

"  No,"  answered  Mason,  after  a  rapid  glance. 

"  Are  the  Fox  brothers  tall  men  ?"  asked 
Luke. 

"  One  only." 

"  The  other  ?" 

"  Is  about  the  size  of  the  man  who  is  ap 
proaching." 

Luke  did  not  reply,  but  examined  still 
more  critically  the  advancing  pedestrian. 

"  If  this  should  be  one  of  the  Foxes — "  he 
began. 

"  Do  you  think  it  is?"  asked  the  farmer  in 
a  terrified  tone. 

"  I  can't  tell.  If  it  proves  to  be,  do  exactly 
as  I  tell  you." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  farmer,  now  thoroughly 
alarmed. 

By  this  time  the  new-comer  was  but  twenty 


76        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

feet  distant.  Though  his  appearance  and 
dress  were  commonplace,  his  eyes,  as  they 
could  see,  were  dark  and  glittering. 

He  made  a  halt. 

"  Friends,"  he  said,  "  can  you  oblige  me 
with  the  time?" 

The  farmer  was  about  to  produce  his  big, 
old-fashioned,  silver  watch,  when  Luke  nudged 
him  sharply. 

"  Leave  him  to  me,"'he  whispered,  in  a  tone 
audible  only  to  the  farmer. 

"  Thee  has  asked  the  wrong  party,"  he  said 
aloud.  "  We  don't  carry  watches." 

The  pedestrian  regarded  him  with  contempt. 
Whoever  he  might  be,  he  looked  upon  a 
Quaker  as  a  mild,  inoffensive  person,  hardly 
deserving  the  name  of  man. 

"  I  didn't  speak  to  you,"  he  said  scornfully. 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  77 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    ASTONISHED    OUTLAW. 

THE  pedestrian's  next  move  was  a  bold  one. 
"  I  am  tired,"  he  said.  "  Give  me  a 
ride." 

"Will  thee  excuse  us?"  said  the  Quaker 
meekly. 

"  Oh,  shut  up !"  cried  the  assumed  pedes 
trian.  "  Quakers  should  be  seen  and  not 
heard." 

Then,  to  the  farmer,  "  I  am  tired.  Let  me 
into  your  carriage." 

"  There  is  no  room,"  said  the  farmer  ner 
vously. 

"Then  tell  the  Quaker  to  get  out,  and  I 
will  take  his  place." 

Ezekiel  Mason  was  by  no  means  a  brave 
man,  and  he  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  this 
impudent  proposal. 

He  looked  appealingly  at  Luke. 

"  I  will  accommodate  the  gentleman,"  said 


78        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

the  latter  meekly.  With  the  words  he  rose 
from  his  seat  and  jumped  to  the  ground. 

"  Shall  I  assist  thee  ?"  he  asked  the  stranger 
in  a  mild  voice. 

"  No ;  I  am  quite  capable  of  getting  into 
the  carriage  without  help  from  a  meddlesome 
Quaker." 

"  Indeed,  thee  does  me  injustice." 

The  stranger  did  not  immediately  get  into 
the  buggy. 

"I  don't  care  to  ride,  after  all,"  he  said 
coolly.  "  Just  hand  me  your  money,  you  old 
clodhopper." 

The  worst  had  come.  The  new  arrival  was 
evidently  one  of  the  Fox  brothers,  after  all. 

"  Indeed,  I  have  no  money,"  said  the  ter 
rified  farmer. 

This  was  true,  for  he  had  put  the  wallet, 
containing  the  five  hundred  dollars,  into  the 
hands  of  Luke. 

"You  lie!  You  have  just  come  from  the 
Emmonsville  bank,  where  you  drew  a  large 
amount." 

At  this  proof  of  knowledge  on  the  part  of 
the  outlaw  the  farmer  was  almost  paralyzed. 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  79 

It  appeared  to  him  that  the  robber  must  be 
superiiaturally  gifted. 

"  I  haven't  got  it  now/'  he  said. 

"  You  lie !"  cried  the  outlaw  sternly.  "  Come 
down  here  and  give  up  the  money,  or  I'll 
shoot  you." 

"  You  can  search  me,"  said  Mason  desper 
ately. 

"  Come  down,  then." 

"  Thee  is  very  unkind,"  observed  Luke. 

"  Shut  up,  you  meddlesome  Quaker  !     It 
none  of  your  business." 

"  Thee  had  better  come  down  and  let  the 
man  search  thee,"  said  Luke  to  the  farmer. 

Ezekiel  Mason  had  been  waiting  for  a  hint 
from  Luke,  in  whom  he  recognized  a  master 
spirit.  His  only  hope  was  in  his  companion. 

"Art  thee  Mr.  Fox  ?"  asked  Luke  in  a  tone 
of  mild  inquiry. 

"  I'll  let  you  know  who  I  am,"  was  the 
swaggering  reply. 

Though  he  was  but  one  man  opposed  to  two, 
he  had  no  fears.  The  farmer  was  evidently 
cowed  and  terrified,  while  the  Quaker  seemed, 
though  large,  to  be  peaceable  and  harmless. 


80        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

But  in  his  judgment  of  Luke  the  outlaw 
was  very  much  at  fault.  When  threatening 
the  farmer  he  had  covered  him  with  his  re 
volver,  but  as  he  was  preparing  to  leave  the 
buggy  he  carelessly  lowered  it.  Luke,  who 
was  aching  to  attack  him,  noticed  this. 

While  Fox,  for  it  was  one  of  the  notorious 
brothers,  was  standing  in  careless  security 
the  Quaker  sprang  upon  him  like  a  panther 
upon  his  prey.  He  knocked  the  revolver  from 
his  hand  with  one  powerful  blow,  felled  him 
to  the  ground,  and  placed  his  foot  upon  his 
prostrate  form. 

Never,  perhaps,  in  a  career  crowded  with 
exciting  adventures  had  the  outlaw  been  so 
thoroughly  surprised. 

"  What  the  mischief  does  this  mean  ?"  he 
ejaculated,  struggling  to  rise. 

"It  means  that  thee  has  mistaken  thy  man," 
answered  Luke  coolly. 

"  Let  me  go  or  I'll  kill  you  !"  shrieked  the 
outlaw  fiercely. 

"  If  you  try  to  get  up  I'll  put  a  bullet  through 
your  head,"  replied  Luke,  pointing  at  him 
with  his  own  revolver. 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  81 

In  his  excitement  he  had  dropped  his 
Quaker  speech,  and  this  the  outlaw  noted. 

"Are  you  a  Quaker?''  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  No  more  than  you  are,"  answered  Luke. 
"  Farmer,  bring  out  the  rope." 

Ezekiel  Mason,  from  the  bottom  of  the 
buggy,  produced  a  long  and  stout  piece  of 
clothes-line. 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do  ?"  inquired  the 
outlaw  uneasily. 

"  You  will  see  soon  enough.  No,  don't  try 
to  get  up,  as  you  value  your  life.  Now  tie 
him,  Mason,  while  I  keep  him  covered  with 
the  revolver." 

"  We've  had  enough  of  this,"  said  the  out 
law  sullenly.  "  Let  me  go,  and  I'll  do  you 
no  harm." 

"  I  don't  mean  that  you  shall,  my  honest 
friend." 

"  But  if  you  persist  in  this  outrage,  I  swear 
that  you  will  be  a  dead  man  within  thirty 
days." 

"  Be  careful  how  you  talk,  or  you  may  be  a 
dead  man  within  thirty  minutes,"  answered 
Luke. 

6 


82        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

While  the  outlaw  was  covered  by  Luke's 
revolver,  farmer  Mason,  though  his  tremulous 
hands  showed  that  he  was  nervous,  managed 
to  tie  him  securely.  Fox  began  to  under 
stand  the  sort  of  man  with  whom  he  was 
dealing  and  remained  silent,  but  his  brain 
was  busy  trying  to  devise  some  method  of  es 
cape. 

At  length  the  dangerous  prisoner  was  se 
curely  tied. 

"What  shall  we  do  with  him?"  asked 
Ezekiel. 

"Where's  the  nearest  prison?'* 

"At  Crampton." 

"  How  far  away  ?" 

"  Twelve  miles/' 

"  In  what  direction  ?" 

"It  is  four  miles  beyond  Claremont,"  an 
swered  the  farmer. 

"  Where  you  live  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  we  will  go  there  first." 

"But  how  shall  we  carry — this  gentleman?" 
asked  the  farmer,  who  could  not  get  over  a 
feeling  of  deference  for  the  celebrated  outlaw. 


'Now  TIE  HIM,  MASON,  WHILE  I  KEEP  HIM  COVERED  WITH  THE 

REVOLVER," 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  83 

We'll  put  him  into  the  back  part  of  the 


By  the  united  efforts  of  both,  the  outlaw, 
like  a  trussed  fowl,  was  deposited  bodily  in 
the  rear  of  the  carriage,  where  he  lay  in  a 
most  uncomfortable  position,  jolted  and  shaken 
whenever  the  road  was  rough  or  uneven.  It 
was  a  humiliating  position,  and  he  felt  it. 

"  You'  11  repent  this  outrage,"  he  said  fiercely. 

"  Doesn't  thee  like  it  ?"  asked  Luke,  relaps 
ing  into  his  Quaker  dialect. 

"Curse  you  and  your  Quaker  lingo  !"  re 
torted  Fox,  his  black  eyes  .sparkling  vindict 
ively. 

"  It  wouldn't  do  thee  any  harm  to  turn 
Quaker  thyself,"  suggested  Luke. 

"  I'll  be  bruised  to  death  before  the  ride  is 
over,"  growled  the  outlaw. 

"  There  is  one  way  of  saving  you  the  dis 
comfort  of  the  ride." 

"What  is  that  " 

"  I  might  shoot  you  through  the  head.  As 
the  reward  is  the  same  whether  I  deliver  you 
alive  or  dead,  I  have  almost  determined  to 
do  it." 


84  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

The  outlaw  was  made  still  more  uncomfort 
able  by  these  words.  He  had  wholly  misun 
derstood  Luke  at  first,  and  the  revelation  of  his 
real  character  had  impressed  him  not  only 
with  respect,  but  with  fear.  He  did  not  know 
of  what  this  pseudo  Quaker  might  be  capa 
ble.  '  He  longed  in  some  way  to  get  out  of  his 
power.  Force  was  impracticable,  and  he  re 
solved  to  resort  to  finesse. 

"  Look  here,  my  friend,"  he  began. 

"  So  you  regard  me  as  a  friend  ?  Thank 
you,  brother  Fox;  I  won't  forget  it." 

"  Oh,  bother  your  nonsense  !  I  suppose  you 
are  after  the  thousand  dollars  offered  for  my 
apprehension." 

"  You  have  guessed  right  the  first  time.  I 
am  not  a  rich  man,  and  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that  a  thousand  dollars  will  be  particu 
larly  acceptable  just  about  now." 

"  So  I  supposed.  You  don't  feel  particu 
larly  unfriendly  to  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  no.  I  might  under  different  circum 
stances  come  to  love  you  like  a  brother." 

"Or  join  my  band?" 

"  Well,  no ;  I  draw  the  line  there.     As  a 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  85 

Quaker  I  could  not  consistently  join  a  band 
of  robbers." 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  Fox  abruptly. 
"  You  weren't  raised  around  here." 

"No." 

"Where,  then?" 

"  I  come  from  Iowa." 

"  What  is  your  name?" 

"  My  friend,  I  haven't  any  visiting  cards 
with  me.  You  can  think  of  me  as  the  Quaker 
detective." 

"  Then  I  will  come  to  business.  You  want 
a  thousand  dollars  ?" 

"  You  are  correct  there." 

"  Then  I  will  show  you  a  way  to  get  it." 

"  I  know  one  way  already." 

"You  mean  by  delivering  me  up?" 

"  Yes." 

"  That  would  not  suit  me.  Let  me  go,  and 
I  will  give  you  a  thousand  dollars." 

"  Have  you  got  it  with  you  ?" 

"  No,  but  I  can  arrange  to  give  it  to  you 
within  a  week.  You  see,"  added  the  outlaw 
dryly,  "  I  have  been  prosperous  in  my  busi 
ness,  and  can  snare  that  sum  in  return  for  the 


86        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

favor  you  are  going  to  do  me  in  giving  me  my 
liberty." 

"  I  am  afraid,  friend  Fox,  that  my  chance 
of  securing  the  money  in  that  way  would  be 
very  slender." 

"  I  am  a  man  of  my  word.  What  I  promise, 
that  I  will  do." 

"  If  you  have  so  much  money,  why  did  you 
want  to  take  the  five  hundred  dollars  of  my 
friend  here?" 

"  It  was  all  in  the  way  of  business.  Well, 
what  do  you  say  ?" 

"  That  I  won't  trust  you.  If  I  should  take 
your  thousand  dollars  for  releasing  you  I 
should  be  as  bad  as  you  are." 

"  Very  well ;  drive  on,  then,"  said  the  out 
law  sullenly. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Ezekiel  Mason's  home 
was  reached.  When  they  drove  into  the  yard 
it  made  quite  a  sensation.  Mrs.  Mason  and 
the  hired  man  stood  staring  at  them  with 
mouths  agape. 

"  Who  have  you  got  there,  Ezekiel  ?"  asked 
his  wife. 

"  One  of  the  Fox  brothers  !"  answered  the 


THE  ASTONISHED  OUTLAW.  87 

farmer  in  an  important  tone.  "  Me  and  my 
friend  here  took  him." 

Luke  smiled,  and  so  did  the  prisoner,  un 
comfortable  though  he  was. 

"  It  would  have  taken  a  dozen  like  that  fool 
to  have  captured  me,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
but  only  Luke  heard  him. 


88        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XL 

UNDER    WATCH    AND    WARD. 

THE  farm-house  was  built  after  the  model 
of  many  similar  houses  in  New  England. 
It  was  of  two  stories,  with  the  front  door  in  the 
centre  and  a  room  on  each  side.  Over  the  two 
stories  was  an  unfurnished  attic. 

"  Have  you  a  secure  place  to  keep  our  friend 
here?"  asked  Luke. 

The  farmer  paused  before  he  answered. 

"  I  might  put  him  in  the  attic,"  he  said. 

But  here  his  wife  interfered. 

"  I  couldn't  sleep  if  he  were  in  the  house/' 
she  said. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Luke.  "  You  see  he  is 
securely  bound,  and  will  be  as  helpless  as  a 
child.  Will  you  show  me  the  attic  ?" 

"  Follow  me,"  said  the  farmer. 

They  went  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  and  found 
themselves  in  a  long  room,  the  whole  width  of 


UNDER  WATCH  AND  WARD.          89 

the  house.  Through  the  centre  rose  the  chim 
ney.  The  sloping  roof  was  not  plastered. 
The  only  furniture  consisted  of  a  cot-bedstead 
and  a  chair. 

"  Is  the  attic  occupied  by  any  of  the  family?" 
asked  Luke. 

"  Not  generally.  When  I  hire  an  extra 
hand  at  harvest-time  he  sleeps  there." 

"  But  at  present  there  is  no  one  occupying 
it?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  suggest  that  the  bed  will  prove  a 
good  resting-place  for  our  friend  below.  I 
have  no  doubt  he  has  often  found  himself  in 
lodgings  less  comfortable." 

"But,"  said  Mrs.  Mason,  nervously,  "if  he 
should  get  free  during  the  night  he  might 
murder  us  all  in  our  beds." 

"  There  is  little  chance  of  that.  When  your 
husband  bound  him,  he  did  a  good  job.  I 
wouldn't  undertake  to  get  free  myself,  if  I  were 
bound  as  securely." 

"  That's  so !"  said  the  farmer,  pleased  with 
the  compliment.  "  He  can't  get  away  no 
how." 


90        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Over  in  the  corner  there  were  a  couple  of 
horse- blankets,  which  seemed  to  offer  a  com 
fortable  resting-place.  Luke  Bobbins  eyed 
them  thoughtfully. 

"  I  have  an  idea/1  he  said.  "  Let  the  out 
law  ,lie  there,  and  one  of  us  can  occupy  the 
bed.  Then  he  won't  be  able  to  try  any  of 
his  tricks. " 

"  I  would  rather  not  sleep  there/7  observed 
the  farmer  nervously.  "  I  couldn't  sleep  in 
the  same  room  with  one  of  the  Fox  brothers." 

"  Then  if  you  couldn't  sleep  there  you  are 
just  the  man  we  want.  You  will  always  be 
on  the  watch,  and  can  frustrate  any  attempt  to 
escape." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Ezekiel  Mason,  hurriedly. 
"  Kate  could  not  close  her  eyes  if  she  thought 
I  were  alone  with  John  Fox." 

"No,"  answered  Mrs.  Mason,  with  a  shud 
der,  "  I  won't  let  Ezekiel  sleep  in  the  same 
room  with  that  bold,  bad  man." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  myself,"  said  the 
farmer,  trying  to  keep  up  his  reputation  for 
courage,  "  but  I  don't  want  my  wife  to  be 


anxious." 


UNDER  WATCH  AND  WARD.          91 

Luke  Robbing  smiled,  for  he  understood 
very  well  the  timidity  of  his  host.  "  Then/' 
he  said,  "  as  I  have  no  wife  to  be  anxious 
about  me,  perhaps  I  had  better  sleep  here." 

"  Yes,  that  will  be  much  better,"  rejoined 
the  relieved  farmer.  "  You  are  a  brave  man. 
Mr.  Fox  won't  get  the  better  of  you." 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it,"  said  Luke.  "  Will 
that  suit  you,  Mrs.  Mason  ?" 

"  Why  don't  you  take  him  on  to  the  jail  at 
once?"  asked  the  woman.  "  I  shall  feel  wor 
ried  if  he  spends  the  night  in  this  house." 

"  I  hear  that  he  has  escaped  from  jail  no 
less  than  three  times.  If  he  should  do  so  to 
night  he  would  at  once  come  here,  and  per 
haps  bring  some  of  his  band  with  him.  He 
knows  there  is  a  good  sum  of  money  in  the 
house." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  when  it  is  paid  out,"  said 
the  farmer's  wife. 

"  Don't  worry,  Mrs.  Mason.  I  have  prom 
ised  your  husband  that  no  harm  should 
come  to  him  and  that  the  money  should  be 
secure,  and  I  will  keep  my  word." 

"  So  you  did,"  said    Ezekiel,    brightening 


92  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

up,  "and  I  will  pay  you  what  I  agreed,  if  you 
keep  your  promise." 

"  Friend  Mason,"  responded  Luke,  "  I  am 
playing  for  higher  stakes  than  five  dollars.  All 
depends  on  my  keeping  this  outlaw  secure.  I 
mean  to  do  it." 

Having  settled  matters,  they  went  down 
stairs  again,  where  they  found  their  prisoner 
waiting  impatiently  for  their  reappearance. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  have  you  decided  to  let 
me  go?" 

"I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  my  friend," 
answered  Luke,  "  but  I  don't  see  my  way 
clear  to  do  so." 

"  I  promised  you  a  thousand  dollars  if  you 
would  release  me." 

"  Yes,  but  I  haven't  any  confidence  in  that 
promise." 

"  You   need   not   fear.      In  three  davs  I 

V 

would  bring  or  send  the  money  to  you  here." 
"  Couldn't  you  oblige  me  with  a  check  on 
the  bank  where  you  keep  your  money?"  asked 
Luke,  smiling. 

"  I  keep  my  money  in  several  banks,"  re 
turned  the  outlaw. 


UNDER  WATCH  AND  WARD.          93 

"  Where,  for  instance  ?" 

"  I  had  some  in  the  bank  at  Lee's  Falls, 
but  I  drew  it  out  the  other  day." 

"  So  I  heard.  Have  you  any  money  in  the 
Emmonsville  bank  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  not  quite  ready  to  take  it 
yet.  I  can  give  you  an  order  on  the  bank,  if 
that  will  suit." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  doubt  if  the  order  would 
be  honored." 

"All  this  talk  amounts  to  nothing,"  said 
Fox,  impatiently.  "  I  tell  you  that  if  you  re 
lease  me  I  will  bring  or  send  you  the  money." 

"  And  how  soon  would  you  want  it  back 
again  ?" 

"  Whenever  I  saw  my  way  clear  to  taking 
it,"  said  the  outlaw,  boldly. 

"  I  like  that  talk.  It  looks  square.  I'll 
think  over  your  offer,  friend  Fox,  and  let  you 
know  in  the  morning  what  I  decide  to  do." 

The  outlaw  frowned.  He  evidently  did  not 
like  the  prospect  of  remaining  in  captivity 
over  night. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me  to 
night?"  he  asked. 


94  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  We  have  a  comfortable  place  provided," 
answered  Luke.  "  Mr.  Mason,  if  you  will 
give  your  assistance,  we  will  show  our  guest 
where  we  propose  to  put  him." 

"  Unbind  me,  and  I  will  save  you  the 
trouble." 

"  No  doubt,  but  there  are  some  objections  to 
that." 

The  outlaw  was  lifted  from  the  wagon  and 
carried  up  stairs  to  the  attic.  His  ankles  as 
well  as  his  wrists  were  securely  tied,  so  that 
he  was  unable  to  walk. 

"  Friend  Fox,"  said  Luke,  politely,  "  there 
is  a  bed,  and  there  is  a  shake-down,"  pointing 
to  the  blankets  on  the  floor.  "  You  can  take 
your  choice.  I  hope  you  will  like  your  hotel." 

"  I  shall  like  it  better  if  it  provides  refresh 
ments,"  replied  Fox.  "I  am  simply  famished." 

"  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Mason  will  furnish  you 
with  a  meal.  I  will  speak  to  her." 

The  outlaw  seated  himself  on  the  bed,  and 
the  cord  about  his  wrists  was  loosened  so  that 
he  might  be  able  to  eat.  This  might  have 
been  regarded  as  dangerous,  as  affording  him 
an  opportunity  to  escape,  but  for  two  reasons. 


UNDER  WATCH  AND  WAED.          95 

In  a  chair  opposite  sat  Luke  Bobbins,  with  a 
revolver  in  his  hand,  watching  his  prisoner 
sharply. 

"  If  you  make  any  attempt  to  escape/'  he 
said  quietly,  "  I  shall  shoot.  Now  you  under 
stand,  and  will  be  guided  accordingly." 

In  spite  of  his  unpleasant  situation,  the  out 
law  could  not  help  admiring  the  coolness  and 
resolution  of  his  guard. 

"  You  would  make  a  capital  accession  to  my 
band,"  he  remarked. 

"  If  that  is  meant  for  a  compliment,"  said 
Luke,  dryly,  "  I  thank  you." 

"  You  had  better  think  it  over.  Join  my 
band,  and  I  will  make  it  worth  your  while." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  earnestly  upon  his  captor, 
to  see  whether  he  had  made  any  impression 
upon  him. 

"  When  I  start  on  any  road,"  he  said,  "  I 
like  to  know  where  it  is  coming  out." 

"  Well,  this  road  will  lead  to  wealth." 

"  I  don't  read  it  that  way." 

"  How,  then  ?" 

"  It  will  more  likely  lead  to  a  violent  death 
— or  the  gallows." 


96        THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  have  been  on  that  path  for  ten  years, 
and  I  am  alive,  and " 

"  A  prisoner." 

"  Yes,  at  present;  but  I  can  tell  you  this, 
my  Quaker  friend,  that  the  tree  has  not  yet 
grown  that  will  furnish  a  gallows  for  John 
Fox." 

"Perhaps  so,  but  I  don't  feel  sure  of  it." 

The  outlaw's  predicament  did  not  appear  to 
interfere  with  his  appetite.  He  ate  his  dinner 
with  evident  relish,  and  left  nothing  on  the 
plate.  When  he  had  completed  his  meal,  Luke 
called  the  farmer  and  requested  him  to  tie  his 
wrists  again. 

"  You  can  do  it  better  than  I,"  he  said. 
"  Besides,  I  shall  need  to  stand  guard." 

I  was  well  that  he  did  so,  for  John  Fox,  if 
there  had  been  the  least  chance  of  success, 
would  have  overpowered  the  farmer  and  ef 
fected  his  escape.  But  with  the  eye  of  Luke 
Bobbins  upon  him,  and  the  pistol  in  his  hand 
ready  to  go  off  at  an  instant's  notice,  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  submit  to  being  rebound. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE.  97 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE. 

THE  outlaw  was  left  for  several  hours  alone 
in  the  attic  of  the  farmer's  house.  He 
felt  far  from  comfortable,  and  he  experienced 
great  mortification  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
been  captured  by  a  Quaker. 

"  I  might  as  well  have  been  captured  by  a 
woman/'  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  shall  never 
hold  up  my  head  again — that  is,"  he  added, 
after  a  pause,  "unless  I  circumvent  him  and 
get  away." 

Fox  dragged  himself  to  the  window  and 
looked  out. 

"  If  only  my  brother  knew  where  I  was," 
he  reflected,  "  he  would  soon  turn  the  tables 
on  those  clodhoppers." 

But,  as  he  knew,  his  brother  was  twenty 
miles  away,  on  a  different  expedition. 

John  Fox  was  a  man  of  expedients.  In  his 
long  career  as  an  outlaw  he  had  more  than 

7 


98  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

once  been  "in  a  hole,"  but  he  had  never  failed 
by  some  means  or  other  to  extricate  himself. 
This  was  what  he  decided  to  do  at  present,  if 
it  were  possible. 

It  was  not  for  some  time  that  he  bethought 
himself  of  a  knife  that  he  had  in  his  pocket. 
If  he  could  get  it  out  so  as  to  use  it,  he  would 
be  able  to  cut  the  ropes  that  bound  him  and 
escape — that  is,  if  he  were  not  interfered  with. 

He  looked  out  of  the  window  again,  and 
saw  Luke  Bobbins  and  the  farmer  walking  up 
the  road. 

.  "  They  think  I  am  safe,"  soliloquized  Fox, 
"  but  perhaps  they  may  find  themselves  mis 
taken." 

He  reflected  with  satisfaction  that  there 
was  no  one  in  the  house  but  Mrs.  Mason  and 
himself.  She  was  a  timid,  nervous  woman, 
who  would  wilt  at  a  look  from  him.  Yet  as 
matters  stood  he  was  helpless  even  against  her. 

As  it  was  uncertain  how  long  his  two  jailers 
would  be  absent,  it  behooved  him  to  escape  as 
soon  as  possible.  There  was  of  course  a  diffi 
culty  in  the  way,  as  his  hands  were  securely 
tied  together  at  the  wrists,  and  he  could  not, 


THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE.  99 

therefore,  thrust  them  into  his  pocket  and  ob 
tain  the  knife.  But  possibly  by  rolling  over 
he  might  manage  to  make  it  slip  out.  It 
seemed  the  only  possible  way  to  accomplish 
his  object,  so  he  at  once  set  to  work.  Rolling 
over  and  over,  he  at  length  found  himself  in 
such  a  position  that  the  knife — a  large  jack- 
knife — slipped  from  the  gaping  mouth  of  the 
pocket. 

"  Ha,  that  is  the  first  step  towards  success," 
he  cried  triumphantly. 

Next  he  must  pick  up  the  knife  and  open 
it.  This  was  easier  than  the  first  step.  His 
hands  were  tied  at  the  wrists,  but  his  fingers 
were  free  to  work.  It  seemed  a  simple  thing 
to  open  the  knife,  but  it  took  him  some  time. 
At  last,  however,  he  succeeded. 

"  That  is  the  second  step  towards  liberty," 
he  said  in  a  jubilant  tone. 

The  next  thing  was  to  cut  the  cord  that 
bound  his  wrists.  That  was  difficult.  In  fact, 
it  took  him  longer  than  both  the  first  steps  to 
gether.  It  chanced,  unfortunately  for  him, 
that  the  knife  had  not  been  sharpened  for  a 
long  time.  Then  the  cord  was  stout  and  thick, 


100  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

and  even  had  his  hands  been  free,  it  would 
have  taken  him  some  time  to  cut  it.  As  mat 
ters  stood,  he  was  placed  at  great  disadvan 
tage. 

"  If  they  should  come  back  it  would  be 
maddening,"  he  reflected,  and  as  the  thought 
came  to  him  lie  looked  out  of  the  window. 
But  nowhere  were  the  two  men  visible.  They 
had  evidently  no  fear  of  his  escape. 

"  They  af%  fools  !  They  don't  know  me  !" 
said  the  outlaw  to  himself. 

He  resumed  his  efforts  to  cut  the  cord.  It 
was  slow  work,  but  perseverance,  even  in  a 
bad  cause,  is  apt  to  be  crowned  with  success, 
and  this  was  the  case  here.  After  twenty 
minutes,  the  last  strand  parted,  and,  with  a 
feeling  of  relief,  John  Fox  stretched  out  his 
hands,  free  once  more. 

His  feet  were  still  tied,  but  with  his  hands 
at  liberty,  there  was  very  little  difficulty  in 
cutting  the  rope  that  tied  them. 

In  less  that  five  minutes  the  outlaw  rose  to 
his  feet  a  free  man. 

He  smiled — a  smile  of  exultation  and  tri 
umph. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE.  101 

"  My  Quaker  friend  will  be  surprised  to  find 
me  gone.  He  will  understand  John  Fox  a 
little  better.  He  will  have  to  wait  a  little 
longer  for  his  thousand  dollars." 

John  Fox  was  himself  again,  but  for  the  first 
time  in  ten  years,  except  when  he  was  the 
temporary  tenant  of  a  jail,  he  was  unarmed. 

"  What  has  that  fellow  done  with  my  re 
volver  ?"  he  asked  himself.  "  If  it  is  any 
where  in  the  house  I  won't  go  off  without  it." 

Half  an  hour  earlier  and  he  would  have  been 
content  with  his  liberty.  Now  he  wanted  his 
revolver,  and  his  thoughts  recurred  to  the 
money  which  the  farmer  had  drawn  that  morn 
ing  from  the  bank.  It  was  five  hundred  dol 
lars,  as  Luke  had  rather  incautiously  let  out. 

John  Fox  was  not  without  hopes  of  securing 
both.  The  coast  was  clear,  and  only  Mrs.  Ma 
son  was  left  in  the  house.  He  might  terrify 
her,  and  so  secure  the  articles  he  had  set  his 
heart  upon.  But,  clearly,  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost,  as  Luke  and  the  farmer  might  return 
at  any  minute. 

The  outlaw  went  down  stairs,  stepping  as 
lightly  as  he  could. 


102  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

On  the  lower  floor  Mrs.  Mason  was  in  the 
kitchen,  preparing  the  evening  meal.  She  had 
at  first  been  reluctant  to  remain  alone  in  the 
house  with  the  outlaw,  but  Luke  had  reas 
sured  her  by  the  statement  that  he  was  se 
curely  bound,  and  could  not  possibly  get  away. 
So,  upon  the  whole,  she  was  calm,  and  had  no 
fear  of  being  molested. 

She  turned  from  the  stove  at  the  sound  of  a 
footfall.  There  was  the  notorious  outlaw 
standing  in  the  doorway  with  an  ironical 
smile  upon  his  face. 

The  terrified  woman  sank  back  into  a  chair 
and  regarded  John  Fox  with  a  scared  look. 

"  You  here !"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Mason,  it  is  I." 

"  How  did  you  get  free  ?  My  husband  told 
me  that  you  were  bound. " 

"  So  I  was,  and  I  will  do  your  husband  the 
justice  to  say  that  he  understands  his  busi 
ness.  I  had  trouble  to  break  loose." 

"  How  ever  could  you  have  done  it?"  asked 
the  amazed  woman. 

"  I  won't  go  into  details,  for  there  isn't  time. 
Now  listen  to  me  and  obey  my  commands. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE.  103 

Your  Quaker  friend  took  ray  revolver  away. 
I  want  you  to  get  it  and  give  it  to  me." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  sir,  for  I  don't  know  where 
it  is."  Mrs.  Mason's  tone  was  a  terrified  one. 

"  That  won't  do,"  said  John  Fox,  sternly. 
"  It  is  somewhere  in  the  house.  Look  for  it." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  sure 
that  Mr. — the  Quaker  gentleman  has  taken 
it  with  him." 

"  I  don't  believe  anything  of  the  kind.  He 
had  no  doubt  a  revolver  of  his  own,  and  would 
not  care  to  carry  two." 

"  You  may  be  right,  sir,  but  I  don't  know 
where  it  is." 

The  outlaw  felt  that  time  was  precious,  and 
that  it  would  not  do  to  indulge  in  prolonged 
discussion  with  the  woman. 

"Is  there  any  revolver  in  the  house?"  he 
demanded  impatiently.  "  I  should  prefer  my 
own,  but  I  will  take  any." 

"  I  will  look,  sir,  if  you  wish  me  to." 

"  Wait  a  moment.  There  is  something  else 
I  must  have.  Where  is  that  five  hundred  dol 
lars  your  husband  drew  from  the  bank  this 
morning  ?" 


104  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Tell  the  truth,  or  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you." 

"  I  am  ready  to  tell  the  truth,  but  I  don't 
know." 

"  Where  does  your  husband  usually  keep  any 
money  he  may  have  in  the  house  ?" 

"  In  the  desk  in  the  next  room." 

"  Probably  he  has  put  the  money  there.  Is 
the  desk  locked  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  the  key  ?" 

"  Here  it  is,  sir,"  and  Mrs.  Mason  meekly 
passed  him  a  small-sized  key. 

"  Good  !  I  see  you  are  growing  sensible. 
Now  come  with  me." 

Together  they  entered  the  room,  and  Mrs. 
Mason  pointed  to  the  desk. 

It  was  an  ordinary  upright  desk.  John  Fox 
opened  it  with  the  key.  He  was  at  first  afraid 
the  woman  had  given  him  the  wrong  one,  but 
she  would  not  have  dared  to  deceive  him. 
The  desk  opened,  the  outlaw  began  at  once  to 
search  eagerly  for  the  money. 

There  was  a  multiplicity  of  small  drawers 


THE  OUTLAW'S  ESCAPE.  105 

which  he  opened  eagerly,  but  he  found  no 
cash  except  four  silver  half-dollars  and  some 
smaller  silver. 

"  It  isn't  here  !"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  sullen 
disappointment,  turning  a  baffled  look  upon 
the  farmer's  wife. 

"  No,  sir,  I  didn't  think  it  was  there." 

"  Where  do  you  think  it  is  ?  Do  you  think 
your  husband  has  it  with  him  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Where  then  can  it  be  ?  Surely  you  must 
have  some  suspicion.  Don't  dare  to  trifle 
with  me." 

"  Indeed  I  wouldn't,  sir.  I  think  the 
Quaker  gentleman  has  it." 

"Curse  him !"  exclaimed  the  outlaw  angrily. 
"  He's  forever  standing  in  my  way.  Have 
you  any  other  money  in  the  house?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  kill  you !"  said 
Fox,  with  a  look  of  ferocity. 

The  terrified  woman  uttered  a  scream  of 
dismay  that  excited  the  fierce  outlaw  still 
more.  He  sprang  toward  her  and  seized  her 
by  the  throat. 


1 06       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE. 

TOHN  FOX  had  been  so  occupied  with  his 
tl  terrified  victim  that  he  quite  forgot  the 
possibility  of  his  two  captors  returning. 

It  so  happened  that  both  were  approaching 
the  house  when  they  heard  Mrs.  Mason's  cry 
of  terror. 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  the  farmer  in 
alarm. 

"I  believe  that  scoundrel  has  got  loose," 
answered  Luke. 

He  quickened  his  pace  and  entered  the 
house  just  in  time  to  become  a  witness  of  the 
outlaw's  brutality. 

It  was  no  time  to  hesitate  or  parley.  He 
sprang  upon  the  robber,  dashed  him  to  the 
ground,  and  put  his  foot  upon  his  breast. 

"  What  deviltry  are  you  up  to,  you  miser 
able  man?"  he  demanded.  Then  turning  to 


THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE.  107 

Mrs.  Mason,  he  asked,  "Why  did  he  attack 
you  ?" 

"  He  wanted  my  husband's  money — and  a 
revolver/'  answered  the  trembling  woman. 

"I  have  a  great  mind  to  give  him  the  con 
tents  of  the  revolver,"  said  Luke,  sternly. 

John  Fox  was  not  a  coward — on  the  con 
trary,  he  was  a  man  of  boldness  and  courage, 
but  as  he  looked  up  at  the  stern  face  of  the 
Quaker  detective  he  quailed,  almost  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life.  He  tried  to  rise,  but  the 
heavy  foot  of  Luke  Bobbins  was  on  his  breast. 

"  Let  me  up  !"  he  growled. 

"You  don't  deserve  to  get  up.  You  should 
lie  there  forever,  for  your  cowardice  in  attack 
ing  a  woman." 

"I  would  rather  it  had  been  you!"  said 
John  Fox,  bitterly. 

"  You  are  safe  in  attacking  a  woman,"  said 
the  detective  in  scornful  sarcasm. 

The  outlaw  was  stung  by  his  assailant's 
scorn. 

"I  have  attacked  many  better  men  than 
you,"  he  replied,  "and  some  have  not  lived  to 
tell  the  tale." 


108       THE  YOUXG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  So  you  own  up  to  being  a  murderer  ?  I 
am  ready  to  believe  you.  I  have  a  great  mind 
to  shoot  you  where  you  lie,"  and  Luke  pointed 
his  revolver  at  the  prostrate  outlaw. 

"  That  would  be  the  act  of  a  coward,"  said 
John  Fox,  hastily,  his  cheek  turning  pale,  for 
he  felt  that  death  might  be  close  at  hand. 

"  Not  exactly  that,  for  I  have  mastered  you 
in  a  fair  fight,  but  there  is  one  thing  that 
holds  back  my  hand.  Do  you  know  what  it 
is?" 

"  Well  ?" 

"  I  should  cheat  the  gallows  of  its  due. 
Here,  farmer !" 

Ezekiel  Mason,  pale  and  trembling,  was 
standing  on  the  threshold. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Go  and  get  another  rope." 

The  farmer  left  the  house,  and  going  to 
an  out-house,  returned  with  a  stout  clothes 
line. 

"  Tie  him  again  while  I  hold  him,"  was 
Luke's  command.  "  Tie  him  as  securely  as 
before — more  so,  if  possible.  How  did  you 
get  loose?" 


THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE.  109 

"Find  out  for  yourself,"  said  the  outlaw 
sullenly. 

"  I  mean  to,  and  I  don't  intend  that  you 
shall  escape  the  second  time." 

Meanwhile  John  Fox  was  execrating  his 
folly  in  not  escaping  when  he  had  the  chance. 
If  he  had  not  waited  for  the  revolver  and 
money,  he  might  by  this  time  have  been  out 
of  danger. 

Yet  he  was  not  without  hope.  What  he 
had  done  once  he  might  do  again.  He  still 
had  the  knife  in  his  pocket.  It  was  ready  for 
use,  and  he  meant  to  use  it. 

No  doubt  he  would  be  taken  back  to  the 
attic,  and  probably  pass  the  night  there.  If 
Luke  Robbins  should  be  his  companion,  all 
the  better.  After  cutting  his  bonds,  the  knife 
could  be  put  to  another  use,  and  might  end 
the  life  of  the  man  who  had  inflicted  such 
humiliation  upon  him. 

He  did  not  speak,  but  his  eyes  betrayed 
him.  There  was  such  a  revengeful  gleam  in 
them  that  Luke  read  their  meaning  without 
trouble. 

"If  I  am  ever  at  the  mercy  of  that  ruffian," 


110       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

he  thought,  "  I  wouldn't  give  much  for  my 
chance  of  keeping^  a  whole  skin." 

When  the  outlaw  lay  securely  bound,  Luke 
summoned  the  farmer. 

"  Watch  him  for  five  minutes,  Mr.  Mason," 
he  said.  "  I  am  going  to  the  attic  to  learn,  if 
I  can,  how  he  got  loose." 

Ezekiel  Mason  looked  uncomfortable,  but 
did  not  object.  He  was  half  afraid  of  John 
Fox  even  in  his  helpless  condition. 

"  Have  you  a  revolver?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  take  it  out,  and  if  he  makes  an  ef 
fort  to  escape,  shoot  him  without  a  moment's 
hesitation." 

It  gratified  the  outlaw  to  see  how  much 
afraid  of  him  the  .farmer  was,  even  in  his 
helpless  condition.  But  he  could  not  flatter 
himself  that  he  had  inspired  any  terror  in 
Luke  Bobbins.  Against  his  will  he  was  com 
pelled  to  pay  tribute  to  the  resolute  courage 
of  the  Quaker  detective.  As  he  met  the  gaze 
of  the  farmer  he  smiled  to  himself  sardonic 
ally. 

"  You've  got  the  advantage  of  me,"  he  said. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE.  Ill 

"  I  am  bound  and  helpless,  while  you  are  free 
and  are  armed.  Still  you  are  afraid  of  me." 

"  Why  should  I  be?"  asked  Mason,  but  his 
tone  was  not  firm. 

"  Yes,  why  should  you  be  ?  I'll  tell  you.  If 
ever  I  have  you  where  I  am  now,  I'll  give  you 
fifteen  minutes  to  say  your  prayers." 

"  Oh,  what  a  terrible  man  !"  said  Mrs.  Ma 
son,  with  a  shudder. 

"  You  wouldn't  kill  him?"  she  ejaculated. 

"  Yes,  I  would.  But  there  is  one  way  of 
escape." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  Loose  these  bonds  and  let  me  go  before 
your  Quaker  friend  comes  down  stairs,  and 
your  life  will  be  safe,  and  your  wife's." 

Ezekiel  Mason  shook  his  head  feebly. 

"  I  don't  dare  to  do  it,"  he  said. 

"  Do  as  you  please,  but  the  time  will  come 
when  you  will  be  sorry  that  you  refused. 
What  are  you  afraid  of?  You  are  armed, 
while  I  have  no  weapon." 

"  I  am  afraid  of  Luke." 

"  You  needn't  be.  He  would  find  fault  with 
you,  but  that  would  be  all." 


112       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Ezekiel  Mason  was  weak,  but  not  weak 
enough  to  yield  to  the  persuasions  of  his  pris 
oner.  Besides,  he  knew  that  Luke  would 
come  down  from  the  attic  directly. 

In  fact  he  was  already  close  at  hand.  He 
brought  in  his  hand  the  cut  fragments  of  the 
cord  with  which  the  outlaw  had  originally  been 
bound. 

"  This  tells  the  story,"  he  said,  holding  up 
the  rope  so  that  the  farmer  and  his  wife  could 
see  it.  "  This  rope  has  been  cut.  The  man 
has  a  knife." 

John  Fox  darted  a  malignant  look  at  him, 
but  said  nothing. 

"  You  are  smart,  John  Fox,"  Luke  went 
on,  "smarter  than  I  thought.  It  must  have 
cost  you  considerable  trouble  to  cut  the  rope. 
Where  is  your  knife  ?" 

John  Fox  did  not  reply. 

Luke  Bobbins  knelt  down  and  thrust  his 
hand  unceremoniously  into  the  outlaw's  pocket. 

He  drew  out  the  knife  which  had  done  Fox 
so  much  service. 

"  This  will  be  safer  with  me  than  with  you," 
he  said. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  MISTAKE.  113 

"  Would  you  rob  me  ?"  demanded  the  out 
law. 

"  Yes,  of  anything  it  is  not  proper  for  you 
to  have." 

To  John  Fox  the  disappointment  was  bitter. 
He  was,  if  anything,  more  securely  tied  than 
before,  and  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to 
loosen  the  rope  or  free  himself  without  the 
help  of  the  knife.  His  hope  of  getting  loose 
during  the  night  and  killing  Luke  was  at  an 
end. 

For  the  first  time  he  felt  hopeless,  and  once 
more  he  execrated  his  folly  in  not  making  good 
his  escape  as  soon  as  he  came  down  stairs. 

"  Dkl  he  say  anything  while  I  was  up 
stairs  ?"  asked  Luke. 

"  Yes." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  He  wanted  me  to  set  him  free." 

"Did  he  offer  you  money  ?" 

"  No,  but  he  threatened  that  he  would  some 
time  take  my  life." 

"  He  is  a  terrible  man  !"  said  Mrs.  Mason, 
shuddering.  "  I  shall  not  feel  safe  to-night 
with  him  in  the  house." 

8 


114       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  don't  propose  to  let  him  stay  in  the  house 
all  night." 

The  prisoner,  the  farmer  and  his  wife  looked 
at  Luke  inquiringly. 

"  I  think,  farmer,"  said  Luke,  "you'd better 
harness  up,  and  we  will  take  our  friend  here 
to  the  jail  in  Crampton." 

"What,  to-night?" 

"  Yes,  the  sooner  he  is  safely  disposed  of  the 
better — at  any  rate,  we  will  have  shifted  the 
responsibility  to  the  authorities." 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  better,"  said  Mrs.  Mason. 

The  buggy  was  made  ready,  and  the  outlaw, 
very  much  against  his  will,  was  packed  in  the 
back  part  of  it.  Towards  nightfall  the  warden 
of  the  prison  at  Crampton  was  startled  by  the 
arrival  of  the  farmer  and  Luke,  bringing  with 
them  the  notorious  outlaw  whose  name  was  in 
every  mouth — John  Fox.  He  hardly  knew 
whether  to  be  sorry  or  glad,  for  no  prison  yet 
had  been  secure  enough  to  hold  him  any  length 
of  time. 

"  I  will  leave  my  name,"  said  Luke,  "  and 
I  shall  hereafter  claim  the  reward  for  his  cap 
ture." 


ERNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE.        115 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ERNEST    HAS    AN    ADVENTURE. 

T  UKE  BOBBINS  remained  at  the  farm- 
J_J  house  over  night  and  till  the  middle  of 
the  next  day.  At  that  hour  the  sum  of  money 
which  Mason  had  withdrawn  from  the  bank 
was  transferred  to  the  party  for  whom  it  was 
intended,  and  Luke's  mission  was  at  an  end. 

He  received  from  the  farmer  the  stipulated 
five  dollars  and  started  on  his  return  to  Em- 
monsville,  Ezekiel  Mason  driving  him  the 
greater  part  of  the  way. 

Luke  arrived  at  the  bank  half  an  hour  be 
fore  it  closed  and  reported  his  success,  includ 
ing  the  capture  of  John  Fox.  He  was  con 
gratulated,  but  noticed  that  the  officers  of  the 
bank  looked  grave. 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  cashier.  "  At  one 
o'clock  yesterday  we  sent  your  young  friend 


116       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Ernest  with  a  thousand  dollars  in  United  States 
bonds  to  the  bank  at  Lee's  Falls.  He  did  not 
return  last  night,  and  we  have  received  no 
tidings  from  him." 

"What  do  you  fear?"  asked  Luke,  hur 
riedly. 

"  We  fear  that  he  may  have  been  captured 
by  some  of  the  Fox  gang,  and  be  at  present 
in  confinement,  or  else " 

"What?" 

"  Killed  or  wounded,"  added  the  cashier. 

"He  could  not  have  met  John  Fox,  for  I 
held  him  in  custody." 

"  There  was  the  other  brother,  James,  who 
was  at  large." 

"  James  is  the  tall  brother  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"Then,"  said  Luke,  "I  shall  have  to  hunt 
him,  too.  Will  you  grant  me  leave  of  ab 
sence  ?" 

"  Gladly.  We  want  to  recover  the  bonds, 
but  we  care  still  more  for  the  safety  of  the 
boy." 

Indeed,  Ernest  had  become  popular  with 
the  bank  officials,  as  well  as  with  the  residents 


EftNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE.  117 

of  Emmonsville.  The  cashier  spoke  truly 
when  he  said  he  cared  more  for  the  boy's 
safety  than  for  the  recovery  of  the  bonds. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  anything  that  will  help 
me  in  my  expedition  ?"  asked  Luke.  "  Have 
you  any  idea  where  the  Fox  gang  would  be 
likely  to  carry  Ernest?" 

"It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  band 
have  a  secret  rendezvous  somewhere  within  a 
dozen  miles,  but  no  one  has  been  able  to  dis 
cover  where  it  is." 

"  And  you  think  that  Ernest  would  be  car 
ried  there  ?" 

"  Yes,  they  would  hardly  bring  themselves 
to  kill  a  young  boy.  He  would,  of  course,  be 
easily  overpowered  by  a  grown  man,  so  that 
there  would  be  no  excuse  for  murderous  vio 
lence." 

"  This  spoils  all  my  pleasure  at  capturing 
John  Fox,"  said  Luke,  ruefully.  "  I  should 
be  willing  to  have  him  go  free  if  only  I  could 
get  the  boy  back.  How  did  the  boy  go?" 

"  He  walked." 

"  But  it  was  a  long  distance." 

"  Yes,  about  ten  miles.    We  at  first  thought 


118       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

of  providing  him  with  a  saddle-horse,   but 
there  was  one  objection." 

"  What  was  that  ?" 

"  He  would  have  been  more  likely  to  be 
suspected  of  being  out  on  some  mission.  But 
on  foot  he  would  not  be  apt  to  attract  atten 
tion.  A  boy  of  sixteen  is  not  very  apt  to  be 
a  custodian  of  money." 

"  True." 

Leaving  Luke  Robbins  to  start  on  his 
search  for  Ernest,  we  will  go  back  to  the  time 
when  the  boy  messenger  left  the  bank  on  the 
day  previous. 

The  United  States  bonds  were  inclosed  in 
an  envelope  and  carried  in  an  inner  pocket, 
which  had  been  expressly  made  by  an  Em- 
monsville  tailor  on  his  first  connecting  himself 
with  the  bank.  The  pocket  was  unusually 
deep,  so  as  to  accommodate  a  long  parcel. 

This  was  the  most  important  commission  on 
which  Ernest  had  been  employed,  and  he  was 
pleased  with  the  confidence  reposed  in  him.  He 
did  not  dread  the  long  walk,  for  he  was  a  strong 
and  active  boy.  Besides,  he  was  authorized  to 
accept  a  ride  if  one  should  be  offered  him. 


ERNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE.       119 

He  would,  of  course,  arrive  at  Lee's  Falls 
after  the  bank  was  closed,  but  he  was  in 
structed  to  call  at  the  residence  of  the  cashier 
and  leave  the  bonds. 

Ernest  had  walked  three  miles  when  he  met 
with  an  adventure. 

On  the  borders  of  a  small  pond  he  caught 
sight  of  a  small  Indian  boy  playing.  He 
was  probably  not  more  than  three  years  of 
age.  A  stick  he  was  playing  with  fell  into 
the  pond,  and  the  little  fellow  reached  over  to 
recover  it.  In  doing  so  he  lost  his  balance 
and  fell  into  the  water ;  there  was  a  scream 
and  a  splash,  and  Ernest  no  sooner  saw  the 
accident  than  he  ran  up,  threw  off  his  coat 
and  vest  lest  he  should  wet  the  bonds,  and 
plunged  into  the  pond. 

The  young  bank  messenger  was  an  expert 
swimmer,  and  in  an  instant  had  seized  the 
child  and  placed  him  out  of  danger.  The  lit 
tle  Indian  boy  clung  to  him  instinctively, 
feeling  safe  with  his  young  protector. 

"Where  do  you  live,  little  boy?"  asked 
Ernest. 

"  Out  yonder,"  answered  the  child. 


120  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Ernest  had  not  been  quite  sure  whether  he 
would  be  able  to  understand  or  speak  Eng 
lish,  but  having  been  brought  up  among  white 
people,  he  was  as  familiar  with  English  as 
most  white  boys  of  his  age. 

Ernest  looked  in  the  direction  pointed  out 
by  the  boy.  At  the  distance  of  a  hundred 
rods  he  saw  a  rude  log  house,  which  seemed 
to  contain  but  one  room.  Smoke  was  curling 
from  a  chimney  projecting  from  the  roof. 
Outside  sat  an  Indian,  about  forty  years  of  age,, 
smoking  a  pipe. 

He  seemed  busily  thinking,  having  the 
grave  face  characteristic  of  the  average  Indian. 
He  did  not  immediately  notice  the  approach 
of  his  little  son.  But  when  they  were  near, 
the  Indian  boy  uttered  a  cry,  pronouncing 
some  Indian  word  which  possibly  meant 
"father." 

Then  the  red  man  looked  up,  and  his  grave 
face  changed  as  he  recognized  his  boy  in  the 
company  of  a  young  white  stranger. 

He  rose  hastily  from  his  seat,  and  advanced 
quickly  to  meet  the  two  who  were  approach 
ing. 


ERNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE.        121 

"  What  lias  happened  ?"  he  asked  in  clear 
and  distinct  English. 

"  Your  little  boy  fell  into  the  water,"  ex 
plained  Ernest. 

"  And  you  saved  him  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ernest,  modestly.  "  I  saw 
him  fall,  and  jumped  in  after  him." 

"Was  the  water  deep?" 

"  About  so  deep,"  said  Ernest,  placing  his 
hand  about  five  feet  from  the  ground. 

"  Then  he  would  have  been  drowned  if  you 
had  not  been  near  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  he  could  not  swim." 

"  He  is  too  young  to  swim.  But  you  are 
wet,"  added  the  Indian,  noticing  for  the  first 
time  the  condition  of  Ernest's  clothes. 

"  Yes,  a  little." 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  Indian  abruptly. 

He  led  the  way  into  the  log  cabin. 

There  was  a  stove  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
and  the  air  was  so  heated  as  to  be  uncomforta 
ble.  As  he  led  the  child  in,  a  stout  Indian 
woman  came  forward  with  a  cry  and  took  him 
in  her  arms.  Her  husband  rapidly  explained 
what  had  happened.  She  instantly  stripped 


122  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

the  clothes  from  the  child,  and  put  on  a  dry 
change. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Indian,  turning  to  Ernest, 
"  take  off  your  wet  clothes." 

Though  Ernest  knew  that  it  was  wise  to  do 
so,  he  felt  bashful  about  removing  them  in 
presence  of  the  woman.  But  his  Indian  host 
brought  from  a  nail,  on  which  they  hung,  a 
pair  of  buckskin  breeches  of  his  own,  and  of 
fered  them  to  Ernest  for  his  temporary  use. 

Ernest  no  longer  hesitated,  but  made  the 
substitution. 

As  the  Indian  was  four  or  five  inches  taller 
than  himself,  the  legs  covered  his  feet.  He 
laughed  as  he  saw  how  they  looked,  and  the 
Indian's  serious  face  relaxed  a  little  from  tbs 
same  cause. 

"Now  I  will  dry  your  clothes,"  he  said. 

He  took  a  chair  and,  hanging  the  wet  gar 
ments  over  the  back,  placed  it  very  near  the 
stove.  Ernest  hardly  liked  to  lose  so  much 
time,  but  he  knew  that  it  would  not  be  safe  to 
wear  the  trousers  in  their  soaked  condition. 

"  You  speak  English  very  well,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  Indian. 


ERNEST  HAS  AN  ADVENTURE.  123 

"  Yes,  I  have  spent  much  time  with  white 
people,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Do  you  support  yourself  by  hunting?" 
went  on  Ernest. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  hunter,  but  I  go  with  rich 
white  people  from  the  cities,  and  with  Eng 
lishmen,  who  want  a  guide." 

"  And  do  they  pay  you  well  ?"  asked  Er 
nest,  not  quite  sure  whether  he  was  not  show 
ing  too  much  curiosity. 

"  Yes,  they  pay  me  well.  I  have  some  money 
in  the  bank." 

Then  Ernest  remembered  having  seen  the 
Indian  one  day  at  the  bank.  He  was  told  at 
the  time  that  his  name  was  John  Castro,  and 
that  he  had  several  hundred  dollars  on  de 
posit. 


124  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

A    NEW    ACQUAINTANCE. 

WHILE  Ernest's  clothes  were  drying  the 
Indian  woman  was  bustling  about  the 
stove.  The  boy  did  not  suspect  her  object  till 
she  placed  on  the  table  a  plate  of  Indian  cakes 
hot  from  the  oven,  and  he  was  invited  to  par 
take. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been  a 
guest  in  an  Indian  family,  and  he  hesitated, 
but  saw  that  his  refusal  to  partake  might  hurt 
the  feelings  of  his  new  friends.  He  seated 
himself  at  the  table  and  found  the  cakes  really 
very  good. 

When  his  clothes  were  dry  he  rose  to  go. 

"  Won't  you  stay  all  night?"  asked  Castro. 

"  Thank  you.  I  cannot  spare  the  time.  I 
must  push  on." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  asked  the  Indian. 

"  To  Lee's  Falls." 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.  125 

"  I  will  go  with  you  a  short  distance." 

So  they  set  out  together. 

At  length  John  Castro  stopped. 

"  That  is  your  way,"  he  said.  "  I  wish  you 
a  pleasant  journey.  I  will  not  forget  what  you 
have  done  for  my  little  son.  If  ever  you  are 
in  trouble,  send  for  John  Castro." 

"I  thank  you." 

The  Indian  shook  hands  with  him  gravely, 
and  turned  back  towards  his  cabin. 

All  this  had  taken  time.  Ernest  had  no 
watch  with  him,  but  he  estimated  that  the  ad 
venture  had  cost  him  two  hours.  However, 
he  had  saved  a  boy's  life. 

Again,  he  had  made  a  friend.  The  friend 
was  an  Indian,  but  Ernest  was  wise  enough  to 
consider  that  no  friend,  however  humble,  is  to 
be  despised. 

It  was  clear  that  he  would  reach  his  desti 
nation  late,  and  he  began  to  wish  that  some 
carriage  would  overtake  him  in  which  he  might 
ask  for  a  ride. 

But  he  walked  two  miles  farther  without 
encountering  any  team.  At  last,  however,  he 
heard  the  rumble  of  wheels,  and  turning  round 


126  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

to  see  whether  there  was  room  in  the  vehicle, 
he  saw  that  it  was  a  buggy  driven  by  a  tall, 
thin  man  with  dark  hair,  swarthy  face,  and  a 
long,  aquiline  nose. 

The  driver  eyed  Ernest  sharply  and  brought 
the  buggy  to  a  standstill. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  boy  ?"  he  asked. 

"  To  Lee's  Falls." 

"  Where  have  you  come  from  ?" 

"  From  Emmonsville." 

"It  is  along  walk." 

"  Yes.  Do  you  think  you  could  give  me  a 
lift?" 

"  Perhaps  so.     Jump  in." 

Ernest  lost  no  time  in  availing  himself  of 
the  invitation.  He  was  footsore  and  weary,  and 
it  was  with  a  sensation  of  relief  that  he  seated 
himself  beside  the  driver. 

The  latter,  who  had  been  going  at  good 
speed,  pulled  his  horse  down  to  a  walk  and 
showed  indications  of  becoming  sociable. 

"  Where  were  you  going  in  Lee's  Falls  ?" 
he  asked. 

Ernest  felt  that  it  would  be  imprudent  to 
mention  that  his  destination  was  the  bank,  so 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.  127 

he  answered  guardedly,  "  I  am  going  to  see 
the  town.  I  may  stop  over  night." 

"  At  the  hotel  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  It  is  not  much  of  a  place  to  see,"  said  the 
driver,  watching  his  companion  curiously. 

"  It  is  larger  than  Emmonsville,  isn't  it?" 

"  Yes.  How  long  have  you  been  in  Em 
monsville  ?" 


"Not  long." 


'  Where  do  you  live  there  ?" 

"  At  Mrs.  Larkins'." 

"  Do  you  go  to  school  ?" 

"No." 

Ernest  began  to  think  that  his  companion 
was  decidedly  inquisitive,  and  something  told 
him  that  he  would  do  well  to  be  on  his  guard. 
Why  should  he  ask  so  many  questions  of  a  boy 
with  whom  he  had  no  acquaintance  ? 

Meanwhile  the  horse  was  travelling  very 
slowly,  and  it  seemed  to  Ernest  that  he  would 
go  over  the  road  quite  as  fast  if  he  had  con 
tinued  to  walk.  However,  it  was  easier  rid 
ing,  and  this  was  a  consideration.  He  began 
to  think  it  was  his  turn  to  ask  questions. 


128       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER 

"Are  you  going  all  the  way  to  Lee's  Falls?" 
he  asked. 

"  I  may  go  nearly  there." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  giv 
ing  me  a  lift.  I  was  quite  tired." 

The  driver  smiled. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  an  object,"  he  said. 

Ernest  looked  an  inquiry. 

"  The  pleasure  of  your  company,"  explained 
his  companion,  with  a  smile. 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  Ernest. 

"  Now  I  come  to  look  at  you,  I  think  I  have 
seen  you  before,"  continued  the  driver. 

"  Where  ?" 

"  In  Emmonsville — at  the  bank." 

Ernest  became  alarmed.  There  was  a  sig 
nificance  in  his  companion's  tone  which  ex 
cited  his  alarm.  But  he  did  not  dare  show 
his  feelings.  He  remained  outwardly  calm, 
though  inwardly  disturbed. 

"  Very  probably,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  been 
there." 

His  companion  laughed.  He  was  playing 
with  the  boy  as  a  cat  plays  with  a  captive 
mouse.  Ernest  began  to  consider  whether  he 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.  129 

could  not  think  of  some  pretext  for  getting 
out  of  the  buggy. 

Suddenly  the  buggy  stopped. 

"  I  will  get  out  here/'  said  Ernest,  quickly. 

"  Not  quite  yet.  I  have  not  got  through 
questioning  you." 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  said  Ernest. 

"  You  must  wait  till  your  hurry  is  over. 
Now  tell  me  truly,  are  you  not  bound  for  the 
Lee's  Falls  bank?" 

Ernest  was  startled. 

"  You  see  I  know  more  about  you  than  you 
suppose.  You  are  the  bank  messenger." 

It  seemed  useless  to  deny  it.  The  impor 
tant  question  now  was,  was  his  secret  packet 
in  danger? 

"  I  have  sometimes  acted  as  bank  mes 
senger,"  he  said  warily. 

"  And  you  are  acting  in  that  capacity 
now.  What  are  you  taking  to  the  Lee's  Falls 
bank?" 

Ernest  turned  pale.  His  worst  fears  were 
confirmed. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?"  he  said. 

"  Because  I  want  to  know." 
9 


130       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  What  business  can  it  be  of  yours  ?"  de 
manded  Ernest,  boldly. 

"  Don't  be  impudent,  boy  !  Hand  me  the 
package  of  money." 

"  I  have  no  package  of  money." 

"  Then  you  have  bonds." 

Ernest  remained  silent. 

"  I  see  that  I  have  hit  it.  Now  hand  over 
the  bonds,  if  you  value  your  life." 

He  spoke  sternly,  and  looked  so  fierce  that 
the  boy  messenger  became  more  and  more 
alarmed.  He  saw  that  he  must  give  up  the 
package,  but  determined  to  hold  out  in  his 
resistance  as  long  as  possible. 

"  The  package  is  not  mine,  and  I  have  no 
right  to  surrender  it,"  he  said. 

"  I'll  take  the  responsibility,  boy.  You 
can't  be  blamed,  for  you  can't  help  your 
self." 

As  he  spoke,  he  passed  his  hand  over  Er 
nest's  vest,  which  he  saw  projected  more  than 
was  usual,  and  discovered  the  hiding-place  of 
the  important  package. 

Instantly  he  had  torn  open  the  vest  and 
drawn  out  the  envelope. 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.  131 

"  I  thought  I  should  find  it,"  lie  said  in  a 
tone  of  triumph. 

Ernest  felt  very  much  dejected.  It  was  a 
mortification  to  lose  the  first  large  sum  with 
which  he  had  been  intrusted. 

"Will  you  tell  me  who  you  are?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"  First,    let   me   know   who   you   think   I 


am." 


As  the  driver  spoke  he  eyed  Ernest  sharply. 
"  Is  your  name  Fox  ?"  asked   the   young 


messenger. 


His  companion  laughed. 

"  I  know  Mr.  Fox,"  he  answered. 

"  You  are  either  Fox  or  a  member  of  his 
band." 

"  You  seem  to  be  a  sharp  boy;  I  won't  tell 
you  whether  you  are  right  or  not." 

"  I  suppose  I  may  go  now." 

"  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ?" 

Ernest  hesitated.  This  was  a  question 
which  he  could  not  at  once  answer.  To  go  on 
to  Lee's  Falls  without  the  packet  would  do 
little  good.  Yet  the  bank  officers  there  ought 
to  know  that  the  bonds  intended  for  them  had 


132  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

been  stolen.  Besides,  he  was  too  far  from  Em- 
monsville  to  return  that  night. 

"  I  will  go  to  Lee's  Falls,"  he  said. 

"  Not  at  present ;  I  have  other  views  for 
you."  As  he  spoke  the  robber  turned  his 
horse  to  the  right.  Wholly  ignorant  as  to 
where  he  was  to  be  carried,  Ernest  sank  back 
in  his  seat  and  resigned  himself  as  well  as  he 
could  to  the  situation. 


THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME.  133 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME, 

WHERE  he  was  to  be  carried  or  what  was 
to  be  his  fate  Ernest  could  not  conjec 
ture,  nor  did  he  speculate  much.  It  was 
enough  for  him  to  know  that  he  was  in  the 
power  of  one  of  the  notorious  outlaws. 

There  was  considerable  difference  between 
his  appearance  and  that  of  the  man  at  his  side. 
He  was  silent  and  depressed,  while  James  Fox, 
for  it  was  he,  seemed  in  excellent  spirits.  He 
turned  to  the  boy  with  the  remark,  "You 
don't  say  much." 

"  No,  for  it  would  be  no  good." 

"  Brace  up,  boy  !  There  is  no  occasion  to 
look  as  if  you  were  going  to  a  funeral." 

"  Give  me  back  the  bonds  and  I  will  look 
lively  enough." 

"  Come  now,  don't  be  foolish.  These  bonds 
don't  belong  to  you." 


134       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  They  were  given  into  my  care." 

"  Very  well !  You  took  as  good  care  of 
them  as  you  could." 

"  I  shall  be  held  responsible  for  them." 

"  No,  you  won't.  I  shall  send  your  employ 
ers  a  letter,  letting  them  know  that  you  did  the 
best  you  could  to  keep  them  out  of  my  hands. 
But  perhaps  they  never  heard  of  me,"  and  he 
laughed. 

"  If  your  name  is  Fox,  they  have  heard  of 
you." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  beat  about  the  bush. 
My  name  is  Fox— James  Fox." 

"  What  made  you  take  up  such  a  business, 
Mr.  Fox  ?"  asked  Ernest,  gravely. 

"  Well,  I  like  that !  You,  a  kid,  undertake 
to  lecture  me." 

"  You  were  once  a  kid  yourself." 

The  outlaw's  face  grew  grave  suddenly,  and 
his  tone  became  thoughtful. 

"  Yes,  I  was  a  kid  once.  At  sixteen — is  that 
your  age?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  at  sixteen  I  was  as  innocent  as  you. 
I  had  a  good  mother  then.  If  she  had  lived> 


THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME.  135 

perhaps  I  would  have  turned  out  different. 
Why,  it  seems  a  great  joke,  doesn't  it?  I  at 
tended  Sunday-school  till  I  was  fifteen.'* 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  it,  then  ?" 

"  No,  nor  the  lessons  I  learned  there.  But 
it  is  of  no  use  to  recall  those  days.  Are  you. 
afraid  that  you  will  come  to  harm  ?" 

Ernest  looked  intently  in  the  brigand's 
face. 

"  No,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "  I  think  you 
won't  do  me  any  more  harm.  But  you  can  do 
me  a  great  favor." 

"  What  is  that — return  you  the  bonds  ?" 

"  I  would  ask  that  if  I  thought  you  would 
do  it,  but  I  don't  expect  it.  I  should  like  to 
have  you  release  me  and  let  me  go  home." 

"  I  can't  do  that,  for  I  want  you  to  visit  me. 
You  may  not  think  it,  but  I  always  like  young 
people.  It  will  be  quite  a  pleasure  to  me  to 
have  you  for  a  visitor." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  am  afraid  that  I  shall 
become  an  unwilling  guest." 

"  Besides,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  my  little 
boy  to  meet  you.  He  does  not  often  meet  other 
boys." 


136  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Have  you  a  son  ?"  asked  Ernest  in  sur 
prise. 

The  outlaw's  face  softened. 

"  Yes,"  lie  answered.  "  He  is  a  sweet  little 
boy,  as  I  can  say,  even  if  he  is  my  son.  His 
name  is  Frank.  Would  you  like  to  see  his 
picture  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ernest  with  interest. 

James  Fox  drew  from  an  inner  pocket  a 
small  card  photograph  of  a  young  boy  with  a 
very  winning  face.  Ernest  was  attracted,  for, 
unlike  many  boys  of  his  age,  he  liked  younger 
children.  He  looked  at  the  picture  long  and 
earnestly. 

"  It  is  a  sweet  face,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  Isn't  it?"  asked  the  proud  father. 

"  Is  his  mother  living  ?" 

"No." 

"  Was  there  no  difficulty  in  getting  it 
taken  ?" 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  on  account  of  my  pro 
fession.  Well,  there  might  be  around  here, 
but  this  was  taken  in  Minneapolis — about  a 
year  ago.  It  was  one  of  the  few  visits  that 
Frank  has  made  with  me." 


THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME.  137 

"  Are  you  going  to  bring  him  up  to  your 
business  ?" 

u  Take  care,  boy/'  said  the  outlaw,  frown 
ing.  "  Don't  be  impertinent." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be.  Do  you  think  the 
question  an  improper  one  ?" 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  have  no  right  to  think  so. 
Somehow  the  business,  though  it  seems  all 
right  for  me,  I  couldn't  think  of  for  my  boy. 
No,  I  shall  soon  place  him  at  school  where  no  i 
one  will  know  that  he  is  related  to  the  cele 
brated  outlaw.  I  want  him  brought  up  to  lead 
an  honest  life." 

"  I  am  glad  you  do.  I  respect  you  for  that." 

"  My  lad,  you  seem  to  be  one  of  the  right 
sort.  As  you  will  see  my  son,  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  that  you  won't  say  a  word  about 
the  business  I  am  engaged  in." 

"  I  will  make  that  promise.  Then  the  boy 
doesn't  know  ?" 

"  No ;  he  has  no  suspicion.  He  is  too  young 
to  think  much  about  that.  Perhaps  if  he  had 
associated  with  other  boys  much  he  would 
have  found  out." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  they 


138  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

had  entered  a  wood,  and  the  road  became  wilder 
and  rougher.  Indeed,  it  was  hardly  a  road, 
but  rather  a  lane,  narrow  and  grass-grown. 

Ernest  began  to  wonder  in  what  sort  of  a 
home  his  companion  lived.  His  evident  affec 
tion  for  his  son  gave  Ernest  a  different  feeling 
towards  him.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  a  softer 
side  to  his  nature,  bandit  though  he  was. 

Ernest  had  never  read  the  story  of  Jekyll 
and  Hyde,  but  he  felt  instinctively  that  the 
man  beside  him  had  a  double  nature.  On  the 
road  he  was  an  outlaw,  with  corresponding 
traits,  a  rough  and  unscrupulous  man,  but  at 
home,  and  in  the  presence  of  his  son,  as  Ernest 
judged,  he  was  a  warm-hearted  and  affectionate 
father. 

In  truth,  the  young  bank  messenger  looked 
forward  with  interest  to  a  meeting  with  the 
boy  who  was  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  man 
whom  the  world  generally  supposed  to  be  a 
stranger  to  the  softer  emotions. 

At  length  they  reached  a  rocky  hillside. 
Here  the  outlaw  pulled  up  his  horse  and 
jumped  from  the  buggy.  Ernest  looked  at 
him  in  a  questioning  way. 


THE  OUTLAWS  HOME.  139 

"You  can  get  out,"  he  said.  "We  have 
arrived." 

Ernest  alighted  and  looked  about  him.  He 
naturally  expected  to  see  a  dwelling  of  some 
kind,  but  there  was  none  in  sight.  If  it  was 
at  a  distance,  why  should  they  not  have 
driven  to  it  ? 

James  Fox  looked  at  him  with  a  smile,  en 
joying  his  perplexity. 

From  his  pocket  he  drew  a  handkerchief. 

"  Come  here,  my  boy,"  he  said. 

Ernest  did  not  quite  understand  what  he 
proposed  to  do,  but  he  felt  better  acquainted 
with  the  outlaw  now,  and  he  knew  that  there 
was  no  cause  for  apprehension.  He  accord 
ingly  approached  without  question. 

James  Fox  bandaged  his  eyes  so  that  he 
could  see  nothing.  Then  he  took  him  by  the 
hand  and  led  him  forward. 

Ernest  could  not  tell  what  was  being  done, 
but  he  found  himself  walking  on  a  rocky  path, 
hand  in  hand  with  his  guide.  How  long  he 
walked  he  could  not  tell.  It  might  have  been 
two  hundred  feet.  Then  his  guide  stopped, 
and  of  course  he  stopped,  too. 


140       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER, 

Next  the  handkerchief  was  removed,  and 
he  found  himself  in  what  seemed  a  rocky 
cavern.  At  any  rate  it  was  a  large  room,  of 
irregular  shape,  but  the  stone  floor  had  been 
made  smooth,  and  was  covered  by  a  soft  car 
pet.  It  was  furnished  like  a  sitting-room  in 
a  private  house.  There  were  comfortable 
chairs,  including  a  rocking-chair,  and  a  capa 
cious  arm-chair.  On  one  side  of  the  room 
was  an  inviting-looking  couch. 

Of  course  there  would  have  been  perfect 
darkness  but  for  artificial  light.  On  a  table 
was  a  large  student's  lamp,  and  in  a  niche  in 
the  wall  was  another.  Besides  this,  there  was 
a  lantern  hanging  from  the  roof  of  the  cham 
ber,  but  this  was  not  lighted. 

Ernest  looked  about  him  with  curiosity  and 
surprise.  It  was  something  new  to  him,  and 
recalled  a  story  he  had  once  read,  in  which  a 
cave-dwelling  was  described. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  asked  the 
outlaw,  smiling. 

"  It  is  wonderful/'  said  Ernest. 

"  You  did  not  know  where  I  was  bringing 
you?" 


THE  OUTLAW'S  HOME.  141 

"  No.     It  is  a  cave,  is  it  not?" 

"  Well,  it  looks  like  it." 

"  There  are  other  rooms,  are  there  not  ?" 

*'  Yes,  but  this  is  my  private  apartment ; 
my  parlor,  you  may  call  it.  This  is  my  sleep 
ing-room." 

He  drew  aside  the  hangings  on  the  further 
side  and  revealed  an  inner  chamber,  of  less 
size. 

On  a  bed  Ernest's  attention  was  drawn  to 
the  figure  of  a  sleeping  boy — evidently  the 
original  of  the  picture  which  the  outlaw  had 
shown  him. 

"  That  is  your  son  ?"  asked  Ernest. 

"  Yes,  that  is  Frank." 

The  outlaw's  stern  countenance  softened  as 
he  regarded  the  sleeping  boy. 

Suddenly  the  boy  stirred;  he  opened  his 
eyes,  and  when  he  recognized  his  father  a 
glad  smile  lighted  up  his  innocent  face. 

"  Papa !"  he  said,  and  James  Fox  bent  over 
and  kissed  him. 


142  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE. 

AFTER  kissing  his  father  the  young  boy 
looked  inquisitively  at  Ernest. 

"  Who  is  that  boy,  papa  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  brought  him  here  to  stay  with  you. 
Shall  you  like  to  have  his  company  ?" 

"  Yes,  papa.  You  know  it  is  very  lonely 
while  you  are  away.  What  is  his  name  ?" 

The  outlaw  looked  at  Ernest  significantly. 
He  took  the  hint  and  answered,  "  My  name 
is  Ernest  Ray." 

"How  old  are  you,  Ernest?"  went  on  the 
boy. 

"Sixteen." 

"  I  am  only  ten." 

"  Are  you  ready  to  get  up,  Frank  ?"  asked 
his  father. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  young  boy  briskly. 
"I  got  sleepy  because  I  was  alone.  Where 
did  papa  find  you,  Ernest?" 


IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE.  143 

"  Oh,  I  met  him  outside,  and  he  took  me 
to  ride." 

James  Fox  looked  approval  of  this  answer. 

"  I  am  glad  you  came  with  him.  You  seem 
like  a  nice  boy,  Ernest." 

"  So  do  you,  Frank." 

By  this  time  Frank  had  slid  from  the  bed 
and  put  his  hand  in  Ernest's. 

"  Come  here,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will  show 
you  my  books." 

Led  by  his  small  companion,  Ernest  went 
up  to  a  bookcase  which  he  had  not  before  ob 
served  in  the  main  room.  About  thirty  books 
stood  on  the  shelves. 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  books  ?"  he  asked. 

"Papa  bought  them  for  me  in  Minneapolis. 
Were  you  ever  in  Minneapolis  ?" 

"  No." 

"  It  is  a  nice  place.  Sometimes  I  think  I 
would  like  to  live  there  instead  of  here." 

"  You  are  not  getting  tired  of  home,  are 
you,  Frank  ?"  asked  his  father,  half  reproach 
fully. 

"  No,  papa,  but  it  is  lonely  here  sometimes. 
Am  I  to  live  here  always  ?" 


144       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  No,  Frank.  Some  time  I  will  send  you  to 
school.  But  you  won't  see  me  every  day 
then." 

"  Then  I  don't  want  to  go." 

The  outlaw  stooped  over  and  kissed  the  boy. 

"  Now,  Frank,  I  have  something  to  do,  so 
you  may  amuse  yourself  with  Ernest." 

"  Can  you  play  dominos  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"  Yes  ;  have  you  a  set  ?" 

"  Yes." 

The  boy  opened  a  drawer  in  a  bureau  and 
drew  out  a  box  of  dominos.  He  poured  them 
out  on  the  table  and  they  began  to  play  the 
ordinary  game.  When  they  tired  of  that,  Er 
nest  taught  him  a  new  one. 

After  they  grew  tired  of  playing,  Ernest 
read  aloud  to  the  boy  from  one  of  his  favorite 
books. 

They  were  sitting  together  in  the  arm-chair, 
when  James  Fox,  who  had  left  the  room,  re 
turned.  He  smiled  approvingly  at  the  pict 
ure.  He  was  pleased  to  think  that  he  had 
found  a  companion  whom  his  boy  liked. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing,  Frank  ?"  he 
asked. 


IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE.  145 

"He  has  been  reading  to  me,  papa.  He 
reads  nicely,  and  I  liked  it  very  much." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  interrupt  you,  but  are  not 
you  young  people  hungry  ?" 

"  I  think  I  could  eat  something,"  answered 
Ernest. 

"  Frank,  you  may  bring  him  into  the  din 
ing-room." 

The  drapery  was  lifted,  and  they  passed 
into  a  room  as  large  as  the  one  they  were  in. 
On  a  table  in  the  centre  a  substantial  meal, 
consisting  principally  of  roast  beef,  was  set 
forth.  An  old  colored  woman — intensely 
black  and  slightly  deformed — hovered  near, 
evidently  the  cook. 

"Juba,"  said  the  outlaw,  "this  is  a  new 
boarder.  His  name  is  Ernest," 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Massa  Ernest,"  rejoined 
the  old  woman,  nodding  her  turban.  "  Sit 
down  here  next  to  Massa  Frank." 

It  seemed  very  strange  to  Ernest  to  reflect 
that  he  was  the  guest  of  one  of  the  famous  out 
laws  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  much.  He  was 
half  inclined  to  doubt  whether  it  was  real.  If 

he  had  been  alone  he  would  have  pinched 

10 


146       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

himself  to  see  whether  he  was  awake  or  dream 
ing.  Here  he  was,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
on  intimate  terms  with  an  outlaw  and  his 
family.  How  long  was  he  to  stay  in  the 
cavern?  That  was  a  question  impossible  to 
answer.  Meanwhile  he  was  hungry,  and  the 
dinner  was  well  cooked. 

In  spite  of  his  being  a  prisoner  and  the 
loss  of  the  packet,  Ernest  was  almost  ashamed 
of  himself  for  the  appetite  which  he  mani 
fested.  But  it  seemed  to  give  pleasure  to 
Juba,  who  regarded  it  as  a  compliment  to  her 
cookery. 

"Where  is  Uncle  John,  papa?"  asked 
Frank,  suddenly. 

Ernest  remembered  that  one  of  the  Fox 
brothers  was  named  John,  and  he  awaited  the 
answer  with  interest. 

James  Fox  seemed  busily  thinking,  and 
Frank  had  to  repeat  the  question. 

"  Your  Uncle  John  ?"  repeated  the  outlaw. 
"He  went  away  on  business." 

"  What  kind  of  business,  papa  ?" 

It  was  a  natural  question,  but  it  startled 
James  Fox.  He  saw  that  as  his  son  became 


IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE.  147 

older  it  might  not  be  easy  to  evade  embarrass 
ing  questions. 

"  You  seem  curious,  Frank/'  he  answered 
after  a  pause.  "  You  wouldn't  understand  if 
I  were  to  tell  you." 

"  Will  you  teach  me  your  business  some 
day,  papa?" 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  the  outlaw's  tongue  to 
say,  "Heaven  forbid !"  but  he  only  answered, 
"  Wait  till  you  are  older,  Frank.  Then  we 
will  talk  about  it." 

At  length  they  rose  from  the  table. 

They  went  back  to  the  main  room,  and  Er 
nest  read  a  little  more  to  the  young  boy.  But 
Frank's  eyes  grew  heavy,  and  he  finally 
dropped  off  to  sleep. 

"  Shall  I  lay  him  on  the  bed,  Mr.  Fox  ?" 
asked  Ernest. 

"  No,  I  will  do  so." 

He  took  the  boy  tenderly  in  his  arms. 

"  If  I  had  known  he  would  fall  asleep  I 
would  have  undressed  him,"  he  said. 

After  placing  the  boy  on  the  bed  he  re 
sumed  his  seat  in  the  arm-chair  and  began  to 
smoke.  Finally,  he  looked  over  at  Ernest. 


148  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"Do  you  like  my  little  boy?"  he  asked  ab 
ruptly. 

"  He  is  a  dear  little  fellow/'  answered  Er 
nest. 

"  So  lie  is,"  said  the  father  in  a  soft  voice. 
"  You  have  no  prejudice  against  him  because 
he  is  my  son  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  Ernest.  "  Whatever  you 
are,  he  is  not  responsible." 

"  True,  but  all  might  not  take  that  view  of 
it.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  speak  so  con 
fidentially  to  you,  lad,  but  if  I  ever  regret  my 
line  of  life  it  is  when  I  look  at  him.  I 
wouldn't  like  to  have  his  future  marred  by 
his  association  with  me.  I  wouldn't  like  peo 
ple  to  turn  from  him  because  he  was  an  out 
law's  son." 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  my  boldness," 
said  Ernest,  "  but  don't  you  think  you  will 
ever  change  your  mode  of  life  ?" 

"It  is  too  late ;  I  am  too  well  known.  Yet 
who  knows  ?"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "Noth 
ing  is  impossible." 

At  nine  o'clock  Juba  entered  the  room. 

"  Has  John  returned  ?"  asked  the  outlaw. 


IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE.  149 

"No,  massa." 

A  shade  of  anxiety  overspread  the  outlaw's 
face. 

"He  should  have  been  here  before  this," 
he  said.  Then,  looking  at  Ernest,  he  said, 
"  I  am  going  out  a  while.  Lie  down  on  the 
bed  with  Frank,  and  if  he  wakes  up  undress 
him." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

An  hour  later  Frank  and  Ernest  were  sleep 
ing  peacefully  side  by  side. 

When  Ernest  awoke  the  next  morning 
Frank  was  still  asleep  on  the  bed  beside  him. 
In  the  large  room  adjoining,  James  Fox  lay 
on  the  lounge.  He  had  given  his  bed  to  Er 
nest.  He  had  not  himself  undressed,  but  had 
thrown  himself  on  the  couch  in  his  ordinary 
clothes. 

Breakfast  was  ready  by  the  time  they  were, 
and  the  three  sat  down  together. 

"Where  is  Uncle  John,  papa?"  asked 
Frank. 

"  He  has  not  returned,  Frank,"  said  James 
Fox,  soberly. 

"  What  made  him  stay  away  all  night  ?" 


150       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Probably  it  was  business,"  answered  the 
outlaw,  but  Ernest  noticed  that  he  looked  dis 
turbed. 

In  truth  he  had  been  out  till  two  o'clock 
seeking  for  his  brother,  who  he  feared  had 
got  into  trouble.  We  know  that  he  was  in 
the  prison  at  Crampton,  whither  he  had  been 
conveyed  by  Luke  Robbins  and  Ezekiel 
Mason.  Of  course  it  was  in  the  mind  of 
James  Fox  that  his  brother  might  have  been 
arrested,  since  this  was  a  risk  which  he  daily 
incurred. 

Just  as  breakfast  was  over  there  was  a  new 
arrival.  It  was  a  tall,  stalwart  fellow,  whom 
James  Fox  addressed  as  Hugh. 

"  Do  you  bring  any  news,  Hugh  ?"  asked 
the  outlaw  eagerly. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Hugh  Humphries. 

"  Is  it  about  John  ?" 

Hugh  glanced  significantly  at  the  two  boys. 
Ernest  he  saw  for  the  first  time. 

James  Fox  understood  and  followed  Hugh 
out  of  the  room. 

"  Well,"  he  said  inquiringly,  when  they 
were  out  of  hearing. 


IN  THE  ROBBER'S  CAVE.  151 

"  Mr.  John  is  in  trouble,"  answered  Hugh, 
briefly. 

"Go  on,"  said  James  Fox.  "Do  you  know 
where  he  is  ?" 

"  In  Crampton  jail." 

"  Go  on.     Give  me  the  particulars." 

"  He  was  carried  there  by  two  persons." 

"  Who  were  they  ?" 

"  One  I  think  was  a  farmer  who  lives  in 
Claremont.  The  other  seemed  to  be  a  Quaker." 

"  I  don't  remember  any  Quaker  in  this  neigh 
borhood.  He  must  be  a  stranger  hereabouts." 

"  I  think  I  have  seen  him  before." 

"Where?" 

"  At  the  Emmonsville  bank.  I  was  pass 
ing  there  one  day  in  disguise,  and  chancing  to 
look  in,  I  saw  this  man  sitting  on  a  bench  near 
the  paying  teller's  desk." 

"Ah !"  said  James  Fox,  thoughtfully.  " He 
may  be  a  detective." 


"That  is  what  I  thought/ 


:<  That  is  bad  news,  but  the  jail  at  Cramp- 
ton  is  not  very  strong.  I  have  been  confined 
there  myself  and  made  my  escape.  However, 
John  will  need  assistance  from  the  outside." 


152  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  see  you  have  a  new  boy,"  said  Hugh, 
curiously.  "  When  did  you  pick  him  up  ?" 

"  Yesterday,  a  few  miles  from  here.  He  is 
a  bank  messenger." 

"  From  what  bank  ?" 

"  The  Emmonsville  bank." 

"Then  he  may  know  something  of  this 
Quaker  detective." 

"  Well  suggested.     I  will  question  him." 


THE  OUTLAW  AND  HIS  BAND.  153 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  OUTLAW  AND  HIS  BAND. 

WHEN  James  Fox  returned  to  the  apart 
ment  where  the  boys  were  still  seated 
at  the  table  he  said,  "  Ernest,  I  should  like  to 
speak  to  you  a  minute." 

Ernest  followed  him  out  of  the  room. 

"  Is  there  any  person  connected  with  the 
bank  at  Emmonsville  who  wears  the  dress  of 
a  Quaker  ?"  began  the  outlaw. 

Ernest  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  Speak  out,  boy  !"  said  Fox.  "  I  must  and 
will  know." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Is  he  a  detective  ?" 

"  He  may  act  as  such." 

"Is  he  under  pay  at  the  bank?" 

"  I  think  he  is." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  now  ?" 

"  No." 


154       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Was  he  at  the  bank  when  you  left  it  yes 
terday  afternoon?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  was  ?" 

"  I  saw  him  ride  away  with  a  farmer." 

John  Fox  and  Hugh  exchanged  glances. 
Their  suspicions  were  confirmed. 

*  Is  he  in  any  trouble  ?"  asked  Ernest,  be 
coming  a  questioner  in  his  turn. 

"  No.  For  aufifht  I  know  he  may  be  at  the 
bank." 

Ernest  looked  relieved,  and  for  two  reasons. 
He  was  glad  that  Luke  was  not  in  trouble. 
Then  he  knew  that  when  his  disappearance 
was  discovered,  Luke  would  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  rescue  him.  It  was  a  comfort  to 
think  that  he  had  a  powerful  friend  outside. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  outlaw.  "  You 
may  return  to  Frank." 

"  How  long  are  you  going  to  keep  me  here  ?" 
asked  Ernest,  anxiously. 

"Are  you  already  tired  of  remaining  with 
us?" 

There  was  something  in  the  outlaw's  tone 
that  savored  of  kindness.  Ernest  felt  that  in 


THE  OUTLAW  AND  HIS  BAND.  155 

some  way  he  had  ingratiated  himself  with  him. 

"  I  would  like  my  freedom.  I  am  not  used 
to  confinement,"  he  said. 

"  Very  natural.  I  cannot  let  you  go  just 
yet,  but  I  will  not  allow  you  to  be  harmed.  Do 
not  be  alarmed." 

"  I  am  not,"  answered  Ernest. 

"  Why  not  ?  You  know  my  reputation." 

"  Yes,  but  thus  far  you  have  been  kind  to 


me." 


"  True.  I  like  you,  for  you  are  kind  to  my 
boy,  and  I  see  that  he  enjoys  your  company. 
Listen  !  I  shall  be  away  all  day,  probably.  Do 
what  you  can  to  amuse  Frank." 

"  I  will.  I  should  be  very  lonely  without 
him." 

"  That  is  a  good  boy,  Hugh,"  said  John  Fox, 
as  Ernest  left  them.  "  I  should  like  to  keep 
him  with  us." 

"  Why  don't  you,  then  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  he  would  be  unhappy." 

"  I  never  knew  you  to  take  such  a  liking  to 
a  boy  before." 

"  I  never  have.  Indeed,  I  have  seldom  met 
any.  All  my  dealings  have  been  with  men. 


156       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

But,  Hugh,  we  must  lose  no  time.  We  must 
try  to  rescue  John,  if  possible.  It  is  no  more 
than  he  would  do  for  me,  if  our  cases  were  re 
versed." 

"  Very  well,  captain.  I  am  ready  to  follow 
wherever  you  lead." 

"  I  know  that,  Hugh.  You  have  always 
been  faithful  to  my  brother  and  myself." 

"  I  always  will  be,  captain,"  said  Hugh, 
with  a  look  of  loyal  devotion. 

"  I  know  it.  I  am  sure  that  we  have  no 
better  friend  than  Hugh  Humphries." 

"  You  only  do  me  justice,  captain.  Will  you 
forgive  me  if  I  say  something  ?" 

"  Say  what  you  please,  Hugh." 

"  What  you  have  said  of  me  is  just,  but  I 
don't  think  you  can  say  it  of  all  in  the  band." 

"  Is  there  any  one  whom  you  suspect?  If 
so,  it  is  your  duty  to  tell  me." 

"  I  don't  take  much  stock  in  Peter  Long 


man." 


"  I  am  afraid  you  are  suspicious,  Hugh." 
"  Not  without  cause.     I  have  noticed  some 
things  about  him  that  I  don't  like.     I  think 
he  is  quite  capable  of  turning  against  you." 


THE  OUTLAW  AND  HIS  BAND.  1?  tf 

"  I  have  never  remarked  anything  of  the 
sort,  but  I  know  you  would  not  speak  without 
cause.  Tell  me  what  you  want  me  to  do." 

"  Only  to  be  on  your  guard.  Don't  trust 
Peter  as  you  trust  me." 

"  I  never  have.  And  now  have  you  any 
suggestions  to  make  ?" 

"  You  might  visit  this  farmer  who  helped 
the  Quaker  arrest  your  brother." 

"  It  may  be  a  good  plan.  Who  is  the  farmer  ?" 

"  His  name  is  Ezekiel  Mason." 

"  I  know  where  he  lives.  He  is  the  last  man 
I  should  suppose  would  be  capable  of  such 
mischief." 

"  He  could  have  done  nothing  without  the 
Quaker's  help." 

"  Very  well,  we  will  take  the  farm  on  the 
way.  Still  I  don't  know  that  we  shall  learn 
anything  beyond  what  we  already  know." 

Before  leaving  the  cave  they  disguised  them 
selves  as  farm  workmen.  In  this  dress  they 
approached  the  farm-house,  but  there  was 
something  that  diverted  them  from  their  orig 
inal  purpose  and  led  them  to  keep  their  dis 
tance. 


158       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Sitting  on  the  portico  was  a  tall  man  dressed 
as  a  Quaker. 

"That's  the  man!"  Said  Hugh,  quickly. 
"  That's  the  man  who  drove  up  to  the  jail  last 
evening  with  your  brother." 

James  Fox  looked  at  him  closely. 

"It  is  best  to  let  sleeping  dogs  lie,"  he 
said.  "We  will  push  on  to  the  jail." 


A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE.  15P 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    DAY    IX    THE    CAVE. 

MEANWHILE  Ernest  was  left  in  the  cave 
with  Frank.  He  had  been  brought  in 
blindfolded,  and  was  therefore  ignorant  as  to 
the  entrance  or  exit.  He  thought  he  might, 
without  arousing  the  boy's  suspicion,  seek  in 
formation  from  him  on  these  points. 

"Are  there  many  rooms  here,  Frank?"  he 
asked. 

"  Oh,  a  good  many,"  answered  the  boy. 

"  Have  you  been  in  many  ?" 

"  I  have  been  around  with  papa." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  round,"  said  Ernest. 
"  Suppose  we  take  a  little  walk." 

"  I'll  go  with  you.  I  should  be  afraid  to  go 
alone." 

"  Does  Juba  ever  go  out  ?" 

"  Yes;  she  sometimes  goes  out  to  get  things." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  goes?" 

"No." 


160  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Then  you  never  went  with  her/' 

"  I  went  once,  but  papa  does  not  like  to 
have  me  go  out." 

"  Let  us  go  about  a  little." 

The  boy  was  quite  ready  to  accept  any  sug 
gestion  from  Ernest.  So  he  took  his  hand  and 
they  went  from  the  main  room  farther  into  the 
cavern. 

Ernest  found  that  only  the  portion  near  the 
entrance  had  been  furnished.  Beyond,  there 
was  a  large  amount  of  empty  space.  Here 
and  there  a  small  light  revealed  trunks  and 
boxes,  arranged  without  regard  to  regularity. 
These,  Ernest  conjectured,  contained  stolen 
articles  which  had  accumulated  during  the 
years  in  which  the  dreaded  outlaws  had  been 
a  power  and  a  menace  in  the  neighborhood. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  he  would  like  to 
open  some  of  these  boxes,  but  the  companion 
ship  of  the  boy  prevented. 

He  ventured  to  ask,  however,  "  What  is  in 
those  boxes,  Frank?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Something  of  papa's  and 
Uncle  John's." 

As  they  kept  on  they  reached  parts  of  the 


A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE.  161 

cavern  which  were  quite  empty.  The  Fox 
brothers  were  in  the  position  of  householders 
who  occupied  a  house  too  large  for  their 
needs. 

By  and  by  the  lamps  ceased,  and  the  portion 
farther  on  looked  dark  and  gloomy. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  go  any  farther,  Ernest," 
said  the  boy. 

"  Why,  Frank  ?   What  are  you  afraid  of?" 

"There  may  be  wild  animals  there." 

"  But  how  could  they  live  there  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  but  papa  told  me  there  were 


some." 


Ernest  understood  why  the  boy  had  been 
told  this.  It  was  to  prevent  his  going  too  far. 
But  it  made  Ernest  all  the  more  eager  to  con 
tinue  his  explorations. 

"  Even  if  there  were  any  wild  animals  I 
would  protect  you,  Frank.  I  would  not  let 
them  hurt  you." 

"But  we  may  not  find  our  way  back.  It  is 
so  dark,"  said  the  child  with  a  shudder. 

"  I  won't  go  farther.  But,  see,  it  seems  to  be 
lighter." 

It   was   at   a   point   fifty  feet   farther  on. 
11 


162       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Through  a  rift  in  the  roof  a  gleam  of  light 
entered  the  cavern. 

Ernest  was  anxious  to  trace  this,  for,  as  he 
judged,  it  came  from  some  outlet,  through 
which  he  might  possibly  obtain  deliverance. 

"Stay  where  you  are,"  he  said.  "I  will 
just  go  forward,  and  see  what  I  can." 

"  Don't  stay  long,"  entreated  Frank,  ner 
vously. 

"  No,  I  won't." 

Ernest  was  just  as  well  pleased  to  go  for 
ward  alone,  for  if  there  was  really,  as  he 
supposed,  an  outlet,  it  was  as  well  that  Frank 
should  not  have  his  attention  drawn  to  it  lest 
he  should  speak  of  it  to  his  father,  and  so  re 
veal  the  fact  of  their  explorations.  This 
might  excite  the  suspicion  of  James  Fox  and 
put  a  stop  to  their  further  walks. 

Continuing  on  alone,  Ernest  then  saw, 
perhaps  fifteen  feet  above  him,  an  opening 
some  three  feet  in  diameter,  through  which  he 
could  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  clear  sky  far 
above. 

It  made  his  heart  beat  with  exultation  and 
longing.  There  was  freedom,  if  he  could  only 


A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE.  163 

manage  somehow  to  lift  himself  up  to  the  out 
let  and  make  his  way  through  it. 

"  What  is  it,  Ernest?"  asked  Frank.  "Come 
back.  I  am  afraid." 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing,"  answered  Ernest,  with 
studied  indifference.  "  It  isn't  anything  you 
would  care  to  see." 

The  little  boy  accepted  this  assurance,  for 
he  did  not  feel  the  interest  that  excited  Er 
nest. 

"  Let  us  go  back,"  he  said,  as  he  resumed 
his  clasp  of  Ernest's  hand. 

"  Yes,  we  will  go  back.  Have  you  ever 
been  as  far  as  this  before  ?" 

"No." 

"  Then  we  had  better  not  say  anything 
about  it.  Your  papa  might  not  like  it." 

"  All  right,  Ernest.  Will  you  read  to  me 
when  you  go  back  ?" 

"  Yes,  Frank." 

Ernest  was  glad  to  comply  with  the  little 
boy's  request,  as  he  thought  he  might  in  this 
way  put  the  thoughts  of  their  exploration  out 
of  his  mind. 

They  were  fortunate  enough  to  get   back 


164       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

without  exciting  the  attention  of  Juba,  who 
was  busy  in  the  kitchen. 

Her  work,  however,  was  soon  over,  and  she 
brought  her  sewing  into  the  room  where  the 
two  boys  were  seated.  The  garment  on  which 
she  was  engaged  seemed  to  be  a  dress  of  rough 
cloth. 

"Well,  Massa  Frank,  what  am  you  doing?" 

"  Ernest  is  reading  to  me.  Why  don't  you 
ever  read  to  me,  Juba  ?" 

"  O  lor',  chile,  you  know  I  can't  read." 

"  But  why  can't  you  read  ?  You're  old 
enough." 

1  Yes,  honey,  I'm  old  enough,  but  I  never 
had  no  chance  to  learn." 

"Why  didn't  you?"  persisted  Frank. 
"  Didn't  you  go  to  school  when  you  was  lit 
tle?" 

"  No,  chile,  never  went  to  school.  They 
didn't  have  no  schools  where  I  was  raised." 

"  Where  was  that  ?" 

"  In  ole  Virginny." 

"Were  you  a  slave,  Juba?"  asked  Ernest, 
getting  interested. 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  was  a  slave." 


A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE.  165 

"  And  how  did  you  get  here  ?" 

"  It  was  all  along  of  the  war.  Ole  massa,  he 
went  to  the  war  and  got  killed.  Then  young  mas 
sa  went,  and  he  got  killed,  too.  Then  one  day 
there  came  an  officer — one  of  Abe  Linkum's 
officers — and  he  told  us  we  were  free  and  might 
go  where  we  pleased.  That  was  a  drefful  time." 

"  Why  was  it  dreadful?  Weren't  you  glad 
to  be  free?"  asked  Ernest. 

"  No,  honey,  we  did't  know  where  to  go,  nor 
what  to  do.  We'd  allus  had  some  one  to  look 
after  us  and  take  care  of  us,  but  now  there 
wasn't  anybody." 

"  Were  you  married,  Juba?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  don't  know  whether  my  ole 
man  is  livin'  or  not.  He  was  sold  down  in 
Georgie,  to  a  cousin  of  ole  massa." 

"  Then  he  may  be  living  yet?" 

"  Yes,  honey." 

"  How  old  are  you,  Juba  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"  I  don't  know,  chile.  I's  powerful  old. 
Specs  I's  a  hundred." 

Ernest  smiled. 

"  No,  Juba,"  he  said,  "you  are  not  nearly  a 
hundred.  You  may  be  sixty." 


166  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  All  right,  massa,  you  know  best." 

"  Juba,  did  you  ever  hear  about  Uncle  Tom?" 

"  Yes,  chile,  I  knew  Uncle  Tom/'  was  the 
unexpected  reply.  "  He  was  raised  on  Mr. 
Jackson's  place,  next  to  ours." 

Ernest  asked  some  questions  about  this  Uncle 
Tom,  but  learned,  as  he  expected,  that  it  was 
quite  a  different  person  from  the  negro  im 
mortalized  by  Mrs.  Stowe. 

In  looking  over  Frank's  books  Ernest  found 
an  old  copy  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and 
taking  it  down,  he  read  some  portions,  partic 
ularly  those  relating  to  Topsy. 

Both  Frank  and  Juba  were  very  much  en 
tertained. 

"Did  you  know  Topsy,  Juba?"  asked 
Frank. 

"  No,  chile,  never  knowed  Topsy.  She  must 
have  been  a  no  account  young  nigga.  If  she'd 
lived  on  our  plantation  she'd  have  got  flogged 
for  her  impudence." 

"Plow  did  you  come  here,  Juba?"  asked 
Frank. 

"  One  of  them  officers  took  me  to  Chicago. 
I  lived  out  with  a  lady,  but  when  she  died, 


A  DAY  IN  THE  CAVE.  167 

after  a  good  many  years,  I  went  to  a  'telli- 
gence  office,  and  there  I  met  your  papa.  He 
brought  me  out  here.  I  didn't  at  first  like 
livin'  down  under  the  ground,  but  I  don't 
mind  it  now.  Massa  Fox  treats  me  well,  and 
I  ain't  no  wish  to  change." 

This  was  the  substance  of  what  Juba  had  to 
communicate.  The  rest  of  the  day  passed 
quietly.  At  nightfall  James  Fox  came  home 
looking  very  sober.  But  he  came  alone.  His 
brother  was  not  with  him. 


168       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE. 

TAMES  FOX  had  very  little  to  say  during 
fj  the  evening.  He  was  evidently  preoccu 
pied  and  anxious.  He  paid  scant  attention  to 
the  boys,  but  left  them  to  their  own  devices. 

Frank  knew  so  little  of  his  father's  business, 
or  occupation,  that  he  could  conceive  of  no 
cause  for  worriment.  When  his  advances  met 
with  little  response  he  asked,  "  Have  you  got 
a  headache,  papa  ?" 

"  No — yes,  child.  My  head  troubles  me 
some.  Be  as,quiet  as  you  can." 

"  Will  it  disturb  you  if  I  play  checkers  with 
Ernest,  papa  ?" 

16  No,  I  should  like  to  have  you  amuse  your 
self,"  answered  the  outlaw. 

He  directed  the  boys  to  go  to  bed  early.  As 
before,  they  slept  together,  and  he  threw  him 
self  on  the  lounge  without  taking  off  his  clothes. 

Ernest  slept  well.  When  he  woke  up  at  eight 


ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE.  169 

o'clock  lie  saw  that  Frank  was  still  sleeping, 
but  his  host  was  already  up. 

Juba  came  into  the  room. 

"  Get  up,  children,"  she  said.  "  Breakfast 
is  ready/' 

*'  Where  is  papa  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"  He  took  breakfast  an  hour  ago,  honey." 

"  What  made  him  get  up  so  early?" 

"  'Portant  business  called  him  away,  he 
said." 

"  Where's  Uncle  John  ?" 

"  He  hasn't  been  home." 

"Has  he  got  'portant  business,  too?" 

"  'Specs  he  has,  honey." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  nice  to  take  breakfast  with 
out  papa,"  said  the  little  boy. 

"  You  may  consider  me  your  papa,  Frank," 
observed  Ernest. 

"  But  you're  not  big  enough  to  be  a  papa." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  am  not  old  enough." 

When  breakfast  was  over  there  was  the  long 
day  before  them  to  be  filled  up  in  some  way. 

"  Don't  you  ever  wish  to  go  out  of  the  cave, 
Frank  ?"  asked  Ernest. 

"  Where  ?"  asked  the  little  boy. 


170  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Into  the  bright  sunshine,  out  on  the  green 
grass,  arid  under  the  trees." 

"  Yes ;  I  think  I  should  like  it,"  answered 
Frank,  thoughtfully.  "  But  papa  does  not  want 
me  to  go.  I  don't  know  why.  Do  many  little 
boys  live  in  caves  like  me  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  don't  think  so." 

"  Can  they  walk  about  in  the  sunshine,  and 
play?" 

"  I  always  did." 

"  Do  you  like  it  better  than  living  here?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  what  made  you  come  here  ?" 

This  was  an  embarrassing  question,  and 
Ernest  felt  that  he  must  be  careful  in  answer 
ing. 

"  Your  papa  wanted  me  to  make  you  a 
visit,"  he  replied  after  a  pause. 

"  And  I  am  glad  you  came.  It  isn't  so 
lonely  for  me.  Before,  I  had  only  Juba." 

"Wouldn't  she  play  with  you?"  asked  Er 
nest  with  a  smile. 

Frank  laughed  merrily. 

"  Juba  is  too  old  to  play.  I  hope  you  will 
stay  with  me  a  good  while." 


ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE.       171 

Ernest  could  not  echo  this  wish,  so  he  an 
swered  evasively, 

"  I  can't  tell  yet  how  long  I  shall  stay.  But 
the  time  will  come  when  you  will  leave  the 
cave  and  live  like  other  little  boys  in  a  house." 

"  Did  papa  tell  you  that?" 

"  He  told  me  that  he  should  send  you  to 
school  before  long." 

"  What  is  a  school  like  ?"  asked  the  little 
boy  anxiously. 

Few  boys  of  ten  would  have  been  obliged  to 
put  this  question,  but  Frank  had  been  secluded 
from  the  world  ever  since  he  was  a  baby. 

"There  will  be  a  good  many  boys,  some 
older,  some  younger,  than  yourself.  You  will 
study  lessons  together,  and  play  together." 

"  I  think  that  will  be  nice." 

"  Yes  ;  I  am  sure  you  will  enjoy  it." 

"  Did  you  ever  go  to  school  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  went  to  school  for  some  years. 
I  wish  I  could  go  again." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  go  to  school  with  me." 

"I  can't  tell,"  answered  Ernest,  vaguely. 
"  Perhaps  Juba  will  go  to  school  with  you." 

Frank  laughed. 


172  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  She  would  look  funny  going  to  school," 
he  said. 

"  What's  dat  you  sayin'  'bout  Juba,  Massa 
Ernest?"  asked  the  old  woman,  entering  the 
room. 

"  I  told  Frank  you  might  go  to  school  with 
him." 

"  Maybe  I'd  go  and  take  care  of  him, 
honey." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  want  to  study." 

"  I  wouldn't  study  nohow.  I's  a  poor,  ignor 
ant  nigger.  Never  shall  know  nuffin',  I  ex 
pect." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  could  learn  to  read, 
Juba  ?" 

"  No,  I  couldn't.  It  takes  white  folks  to 
read." 

"  No,  Juba ;  when  I  went  to  school  there 
was  a  colored  boy  in  my  class,  and  he  was  one 
of  the  smartest  scholars  we  had." 

"  And  was  he  a  nigger  ?"  asked  Juba,  in 
terested. 

"  We  didn't  call  him  that,  but  he  was  a 
colored  boy.  If  he  could  learn  to  read,  I  am 
sure  you  could." 


ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE.  173 

"  It's  no  use,  chile.     I'm  too  old  now." 
Much  as  he  liked  Frank,  it  was  irksome  to 

Ernest  to  remain  all  day  in  the  cave.     It  was 

imprisonment  under  pleasant  circumstances, 

but  still  imprisonment. 

They  got  through  the  forenoon  somehow, 

taking  dinner  at  twelve  o'clock. 

o 

About  two  o'clock  Frank  complained  of  be 
ing  sleepy. 

"  You  won't  mind  if  I  go  to  sleep  for  an 
hour,  Ernest  ?"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Ernest.  "  I  can  read, 
you  know." 

Since  his  exploration  of  the  day  before,  Er 
nest  had  been  longing  to  visit  once  more  the 
same  portion  of  the  cave.  But  he  wanted  to 
go  alone.  He  had  a  hope  that  through  the 
aperture  in  the  roof  he  might  effect  his  es 
cape.  It  would  not  do  to  have  Frank  with 
him,  as  this  would  interfere  with  his  plan. 
Now  the  longed-for  opportunity  was  almost  at 
hand. 

He  took  a  volume  from  the  book-shelf,  and 
sitting  down  beside  the  bed  began  to  read. 
But  his  mind  was  not  on  the  book,  though  at 


174       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

another  time  he  would  have  enjoyed  it.  He 
watched  Frank,  and  in  less  than  fifteen  min 
utes  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  that  he  was 
fast  asleep. 

Then  he  left  the  room,  Juba  being  occupied 
in  the  kitchen.  He  secured  his  hat,  as  he 
would  need  it  in  case  he  effected  his  escape. 

As  he  passed  through  that  apartment  in 
the  cave  where  there  were  trunks  and  boxes, 
it  occurred  to  him  to  open  one  of  them.  He 
was  rather  surprised  that  it  should  be  un 
locked,  but  so  it  was. 

It  was  filled  with  a  miscellaneous  assort 
ment  of  articles,  but  on  top,  to  his  surprise 
and  joy,  he  recognized  the  envelope  contain 
ing  the  bonds  that  had  been  taken  from  him. 

If  he  left  the  cave  he  would  want  these,  and 
therefore  he  had  no  hesitation  in  taking  them. 
He  put  them  in  the  inside  pocket  of  his  vest, 
and  kept  on  his  way. 

In  a  short  time  he  reached  the  spot  lighted 
by  the  aperture  in  the  roof. 

The  opening  was  quite  large  enough  for 
him  to  get  through,  but  the  difficulty  was  that 
it  was  fully  fifteen  feet  above  the  floor  of  the 


ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE.       175 

cave.  Ernest  was  something  of  a  gymnast, 
but  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  reach  the  open 
ing  through  which  alone  he  could  obtain  de 
liverance. 

He  looked  about  him  to  see  if  there  were 
any  articles  which  he  could  pile  upon  one  an 
other  so  as  to  attain  the  aperture.  But  the  cave 
was  quite  empty  of  articles  of  any  description, 
nor  could  he  find  any  that  he  could  move  in 
the  portions  which  he  had  already  traversed. 

It  was  certainly  very  aggravating  to  be  so 
near  freedom,  and  yet  unable  to  obtain  it. 
There  just  above  him  he  could  see  the  blue 
sky  and  the  cheerful  sunshine,  while  he  was 
a  prisoner  in  a  dark  cavern. 

Was  there  no  way  of  reaching  the  opening? 
he  asked  himself. 

If  he  had  to  give  up  hope,  he  would  feel 
obliged  to  return  the  envelope  to  the  box  from 
which  he  had  taken  it.  Were  its  loss  dis 
covered,  he  would  of  course  be  searched,  and 
kept  in  stricter  seclusion  than  before. 

In  the  room  used  by  the  outlaw  as  a  sitting- 
room — the  apartment  he  had  just  left — he 
might  be  able  to  find  what  he  needed.  But 


176  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

he  could  not  remove  anything  without  being  de 
tected,  and  should  he  return  there  he  would  pos 
sibly  find  Frank  awake,  which  would  spoil  all. 

It  looked  as  if  he  would  have  to  give  up  the 
chance  that  had  couie  to  him.  In  thoughtful 
mood  he  walked  slowly  back.  All  at  once  an 
idea  struck  him.  In  the  room  where  the  trunks 
and  boxes  were  stored  he  had  seen  a  long, 
stout  rope.  Could  he  do  anything  with  it  ? 

Looking  up  at  the  aperture,  he  noticed  a 
jagged  projection  on  one  side. 

"  If  I  could  attach  the  rope  to  that,"  he  re 
flected,  "  I  could  draw  myself  up  hand  over 
hand  till  I  reached  the  top,  and  then  it  would 
go  hard  if  I  didn't  get  out." 

With  new  hope  in  his  heart,  he  retraced  his 
steps  rapidly  till  he  reached  the  store-room. 

He  knew  just  where  to  look  for  the  rope. 
He  examined  it  carefully,  and  found  it  very 
stout  and  strong. 

He  took  it  back  with  him.  Then  making  a 
loop  at  one  end,  he  stood  under  the  opening 
and  threw  it  up  as  he  would  a  lasso.  He  had 
to  try  a  dozen  times  before  he  contrived  to 
circle  the  projection  with  the  loop. 


ERNEST  EXPLORES  THE  CAVE.        177 

Then  pulling  it  taut,  he  began  to  climb  hand 
over  hand,  as  he  had  many  a  time  done  in 
sport.  Now  his  deliverance  depended  upon  it. 

Slowly,  foot  by  foot,  he  approached  the 
opening,  not  knowing  whether,  even  if  he 
reached  it,  he  would  be  able  to  draw  himself 
through  the  hole. 


~. 


178       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

OUT    OF    THE    FRYING-PAN    INTO    THE    FIRE. 

A  REIVED  at  the  opening,  Ernest  found 
JjL  that  there  was  a  trap-door  which  was 
ordinarily  closed,  but  through  some  misadven 
ture  had  been  left  open.  It  was,  however,  a 
serious  problem  to  draw  himself  up  so  as  to 
profit  by  what  he  had  already  done. 

Twice  he  failed,  and  nearly  lost  his  grip  on 
the  rope.  Then  he  caught  hold  of  the  projec 
tion  from  which  the  rope  depended,  and  by  a 
supreme  effort  he  succeeded,  helping  himself 
by  means  of  the  trap-door,  in  emerging  from 
his  subterranean  prison. 

Stretching  himself,  he  took  a  deep  breath, 
and  realized  joyfully  not  only  that  he  was  free, 
but  that  he  had  recovered  the  valuable  bonds 
of  which  he  had  been  placed  in  charge. 

He  began  to  look  around  him,  and  tried  to 
conjecture  in  what  direction  he  must  go  to 


OUT  OF  THE  FRYING-PAN  INTO  THE  FIEE.     179 

reach  Lee's  Falls.  He  was  quite  at  a  loss,  as 
be  had  been  carried  into  the  cave  blindfolded. 
But  help  seemed  to  be  at  hand.  He  saw  at  a 
little  distance,  rapidly  approaching  him,  a  man 
of  middle  height,  whom  he  concluded  to  be  a 
resident  of  some  place  in  the  vicinity. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  in  what  direction  I  must 
go  to  reach  Lee's  Falls  ?"  he  asked. 

The  stranger  paused  and  examined  him 
sharply. 

"  So  you  want  to  go  to  Lee's  Falls  ?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?" 

"From  Emmonsville." 

"Direct?" 

"  No." 

"  I  saw  you  just  now  coming  out  of  some 
opening  in  the  earth." 

This  alarmed  Ernest.  He  felt  that  he  might 
be  called  upon  to  explain  where  he  had  been. 

"  Who  is  this  man  ?"  he  asked  himself.  "Is 
he  one  who  is  likely  to  be  in  the  confidence  of 
the  outlaws  ?  If  so,  I  have  only  got  out  of 
one  scrape  to  fall  into  another." 

He  studied  the  face  of  the  man  with  whom 


180  THE  YOUJNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

he  was  speaking,  and  to  his  dismay  noted  a  re 
semblance  to  James  Fox,whohad  captured  him. 
He  began  to  suspect  that  this  was  his  brother. 

Whether  it  was  or  not,  Ernest  deemed  it 
politic  to  say  as  little  as  possible  of  his  expe 
riences,  and  of  what  he  knew  about  the  cave 
and  its  occupants. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  quietly  ;  "  there  seems 
to  be  a  cave  underneath.  I  found  the  trap 
door  open,  and  went  down,  but  I  regretted  it, 
for  I  found  it  difficult  to  get  out  again." 

His  new  acquaintance  eyed  him  scrutiniz- 
ingly,  as  if  to  see  whether  he  knew  more  than 
he  was  willing  to  reveal. 

"  So  there  is  a  cave  underneath  ?"  he  said 
inquiringly. 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  what  it  is  used  for?" 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  used  at  all.  The  room 
below  seems  empty." 

The  man  regarded  him  fixedly. 

"  When  did  you  leave  Emmonsville  ?"  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"  Yesterday,"  answered  Ernest  in  some  con 
fusion. 


OUT  OF  THE  FRYING-PAN  INTO  THE  FIEE.     181 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  have  got  no 
farther  on  your  way  to  Lee's  Falls  ?" 

"  I  stopped  at  the  cabin  of  an  Indian,"  an 
swered  Ernest,  making  the  only  explanation 
he  could  think  of. 

The  man  smiled. 

"  Young  man,"  he  said,  "  didn't  you  pass 
last  night  in  this  cave?" 

Ernest  saw  that  there  was  no  further  chance 
for  subterfuge. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered. 

"  I  thought  so." 

"  Yrou  were  captured  ?"  the  other  went  on. 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  any  suspicion  by  whom  this  cave 
is  occupied  ?" 

"  I  presume  by  the  Fox  brothers." 

"  Correct.     I  am  one  of  them." 

11 1  began  to  think  so." 

"  How  were  you  able  to  escape  ?" 

"  I  was  left  with  the  little  boy.  He  fell 
asleep,  and  then  I  began  to  explore." 

"  Where  is  my  brother  ?" 

"  He  went  out  quite  early,  I  presume  in  search 
of  you.  You  are  John  Fox,  are  you  not?" 


182       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEE. 

"  Exactly.  I  suppose  my  brother  heard 
that  I  was  in  trouble." 

"Yes." 

"  By  the  way,  the  Quaker  detective  through 
whom  I  got  into  difficulty  you  doubtless- 
know?" 

"I  do." 

"  I  was  put  into  jail  at  Crampton,but  I  man 
aged  to  effect  my  escape.  Are  you  connected 
in  any  way  with  the  Emmonsville  bank  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  In  what  way  ?" 

"  As  bank  messenger." 

"  Did  my  brother  take  anything  from  you?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Money  ?" 

"  No ;  bonds." 

"  You  are  a  sensible  boy.  You  answer  my 
questions  freely.  You  are  a  smart  boy,  too. 
It  isn't  every  lad  of  your  age  who  would  have 
managed  to  effect  an  escape  from  the  cave. 
Do  you  remember  the  entrance  ?" 

" No;  I  was  carried  into  it  blindfolded." 

"  I  thought  my  brother  would  be  prudent. 
So  you  couldn't  find  it  again  ?" 


OUT  OF  THE  FRYING-PAN  INTO  THE  FIRE.     183 

"  No  ;  I  don't  think  so." 

"Still,  I  cannot  run  any  risk.  You  will 
have  to  come  with  me/' 

"  Where  do  you  want  to  carry  me  ?"  asked 
Ernest,  much  disturbed. 

"  I  will  carry  you  back  to  the  cave." 

"  Let  me  go  free.  I  will  promise  not  to  re 
veal  anything  that  I  have  discovered." 

The  outlaw  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  sorry,  boy,  but  that  is  a  request  I 
cannot  grant.  You  were  made  prisoner  by 
my  brother,  and  I  owe  it  to  him  to  prevent 
your  escape." 

It  was  intolerable  to  Ernest  to  think  of 
having  his  captivity  renewed.  He  determined 
that  he  would  at  least  make  an  effort  for  free 
dom. 

Accordingly  he  did  not  hesitate,  but  started 
to  run,  hoping  that  in  this  way  he  might  save 
himself.  He  had  always  the  reputation 
among  his  boy  companions  as  a  sprinter,  and 
resolved  to  see  whether  this  was  a  lost  art 
with  him. 

"  So  that's  your  game,  is  it  ?"  exclaimed  the 
outlaw.  "  It  will  go  hard  with  me  if  I  don't 


184  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

catch  you.  Stop,  or  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you !" 

But  Ernest  had  no  intention  of  giving  up 
so  soon.  He  only  exerted  himself  the  more. 

The  contest  was  not  so  unequal  as  might 
have  been  supposed.  Ernest  was  tall  of  his 
age,  and  the  outlaw  was  rather  below  the  aver 
age  height.  So  there  was  in  reality  only 
about  an  inch  difference  in  their  height. 

On  the  other  hand  John  Fox  had,  as  might 
be  supposed,  more  strength  and  endurance. 
He  was  not  over  weight,  and  therefore  not 
scant  of  breath.  Ernest  got  the  start,  and 
this  was  an  advantage.  One  ran  about  as  fast 
as  the  other,  so  it  settled  down  into  a  contest 
of  endurance.  Whoever  could  hold  out  the 
longest  would  win. 

The  outlaw,  however,  was  irritated  at  the 
unexpected  difficulty  of  his  undertaking.  He 
had  thought  that  Ernest  would  surrender  at 
discretion. 

"  I  wish  I  had  my  revolver,"  he  muttered. 

Had  the  outlaw  been  aware  that  Ernest  had 
in  his  possession  the  packet  of  bonds  which 
had  impelled  his  brother  to  make  him  a  cap- 


OUT  OF  THE  FBYING-PAN  INTO  THE  FIRE.     185 

tive,  his  zeal  would  have  been  increased.  This, 
however,  he  did  not  suspect.  He  knew,  of 
course,  that  the  bonds  would  be  taken  from 
him,  and  he  could  conceive  of  no  chance  of 
the  boy's  recovering  them. 

They  flew  over  the  ground,  maintaining  the 
same  relative  distance.  But  there  was  an  un 
expected  contingency  that  worked  to  the  dis 
advantage  of  Ernest. 

Directly  in  his  path  was  a  projecting  root, 
which  in  his  haste  escaped  his  notice.  He 
tripped  over  it,  and  as  a  natural  consequence 
he  measured  his  length  on  the  ground. 

The  outlaw's  face  lighted  up  with  exulta 
tion.  Now  the  issue  was  no  longer  doubtful. 
At  last  he  had  the  boy  in  his  power. 

Before  Ernest  could  recover  himself  and 
rise  to  his  feet,  John  Fox  was  upon  him. 

He  flung  himself  on  the  prostrate  boy,  and 
clutched  him  in  a  firm  grasp. 

"  Now  I  have  you,"  he  said.  "  You  were 
a  fool  to  run.  You  might  have  known  that 
you  could  not  escape." 

"  I  came  near  it,  though,"  gasped  Ernest, 
quite  out  of  breath.  "  Let  me  up." 


186       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Will  you  promise  to  go  with  me  without 
giving  me  any  more  trouble  ?" 

"  I  will  make  no  promises,"  said  Ernest, 
stoutly. 

"  Then  it  will  be  the  worse  for  you,"  said 
the  outlaw  vindictively. 

What  he  proposed  to  do  must  remain  un 
known,  for  as  he  spoke  a  hand  was  thrust 
into  his  neckcloth,  and  he  was  jerked  violently 
to  his  feet. 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  187 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A    FRIEND    IN    NEED. 

T)EWILDERED  and  angry,  John  Fox 
_D  looked  to  see  who  was  his  assailant.  He 
found  himself  confronted  by  a  tall,  muscular 
Indian,  whom  Ernest  also  recognized  as  the 
man  whose  child  he  had  saved  from  a  watery 
grave. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  outrage?"  de 
manded  the  outlaw  angrily. 

"  Why  are  you  hurting  him  ?"  said  the  In 
dian,  pointing  to  Ernest. 

"  Because  I  choose  to.  What  have  you  got 
to  say  about  it?" 

"  Me  stop  you,"  said  the  Indian  calmly. 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  shoot  you." 

This  was  an  empty  threat,  for  his  weapon 
had  been  taken  by  the  Quaker  detective. 

The  only  answer  made  by  the  Indian  was 
to  produce  a  revolver,  which  he  pointed  at  the 
breast  of  the  outlaw. 


188      THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Two  play  at  that  game,"  he  answered. 

John  Fox  shrank  back,  for  it  takes  a  man 
of  nerve  to  face  a  revolver.  He  began  to  re 
monstrate. 

"  What  interest  have  you  in  that  boy  ?"  he 
asked. 

"He  save  my  little  boy  from  drowning," 
answered  the  Indian.  "  Will  you  go,  or  shall 
me  shoot  ?" 

There  was  but  one  answer  to  make  to  this 
question.  John  Fox  turned  about,  and  walked 
quietly  away  without  a  word. 

Ernest  grasped  the  Indian's  hand  gratefully. 

"  I  can't  thank  you  enough/'  he  said.  "  You 
have  perhaps  saved  my  life." 

"  You  saved  my  little  boy." 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ?" 

"  No." 

"  It  was  John  Fox,  one  of  the  Fox  brothers, 
the  famous  outlaws." 

"  Humph  !  I  have  heard  of  him.  How  did 
he  catch  you  ?" 

Ernest  told  the  story.  He  also  told  of  the 
commission  he  had  from  the  Emmonsville 
bank. 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  189 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  favor,"  he  asked. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  want  you  to  go  with  me  to  the  bank  at 
Lee's  Falls.  I  have  a  package  of  bonds  to  carry 
there,  and  I  don't  think  it  safe  to  go  alone.  I 
will  see  that  you  are  paid  for  your  time  and 
trouble." 

"  I  will  go." 

Under  the  guidance  of  his  Indian  friend, 
Ernest  reached  Lee's  Falls.  The  bank  was 
closed,  but  the  cashier  was  still  in  the  bank 
building,  having  been  detained  after  hours. 
Seeing  him  through  the  window,  Ernest 
knocked  and  obtained  admission. 

"  The  bank  is  closed,  young  man,"  said  the 
bank  officer. 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  have  a  package  of  bonds 
from  the  bank  in  Emmonsville.  I  hope  you 
will  take  them  from  me,  for  I  don't  want  the 
responsibility  of  them  any  longer." 

"Oh,  you  are  the  young  messenger.  We 
had  advice  that  you  would  be  here  yester 
day." 

"So  I  should  have  been,  but  for  my  cap 
ture  by  one  of  the  Fox  brothers." 


190       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  And  how  did  you  escape  ?"  asked  the 
wondering  cashier. 

"  Please  take  the  bonds,  and  I  will  tell  you. 
I  spent  two  nights  in  the  outlaws'  cave.  This 
afternoon  I  managed  to  get  away." 

"  But  were  not  the  bonds  taken  from 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  recovered  them." 

Ernest,  without  waiting  for  further  ques 
tions,  told  the  story  as  briefly  as  possible. 

"  So,  after  all,"  he  concluded,  "  I  should 
have  been  taken  again  but  for  my  friend  here," 
laying  his  hand  upon  the  Indian's  shoulder. 

"  I  told  him  you  would  pay  him  for  his 
trouble  in  accompanying  me." 

"  So  I  will,"  said  the  cashier,  and  he  took  a 
five-dollar  bill  and  tendered  it  to  the  Indian. 

The  latter  objected  to  taking  it,  alleging 
that  Ernest  had  saved  his  boy's  life,  but  the 
cashier  overruled  his  objections,  and  he  ac 
cepted  it. 

They  were  going  out  of  the  bank  when  the 
familiar  figure  of  Luke  Bobbins  came  up  the 
street.  His  face  was  overspread  by  an  expres 
sion  of  anxiety,  and  he  seemed  troubled.  He 


A  FEIEND  IN  NEED.  191 

had  searched  everywhere  for  Ernest,  and  thus 
far  had  failed  to  find  him. 

When  he  saw  the  boy  emerging  from  the 
bank  his  face  changed  at  once. 

"  So  you  are  safe,  Ernest?  I  thought  I  had 
lost  you,"  he  exclaimed.  "Did  you  see  any 
thing  of  the  outlaws  ?" 

"  I  should  say  that  I  did.  I  was  captured 
by  James  Fox,  and  confined  two  nights  in  the 
underground  haunt  of  the  robbers.  When  I 
escaped  this  afternoon  I  fell  into  the  clutches 
of  the  other  brother." 

"What!    John  Fox?" 

"  Yes." 

"  This  cannot  be,  Ernest.  I  lodged  him 
myself  in  Crampton  jail." 

"  All  I  can  tell  you  is  that  he  is  at  liberty 
now.  He  must  have  escaped." 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  I  shan't  receive  the  re 
ward  offered  for  his  capture." 

"  You  ought  to  get  it.  You  delivered  him 
over  to  the  authorities.  If  they  could  not 
keep  him,  that  was  their  lookout." 

"  You  ought  to  be  right,  lad.  I  hope  you 
are.  Who  is  this  man  ?" 


192       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"My  Indian  friend,  who  proved  to  be  a 
friend  in  need.  It  was  he  who  saved  me  from 
John  Fox." 

"I  am  proud  to  know  you,"  said  Luke, 
grasping  the  hand  of  the  red  warrior.  "If  you 
have  helped  Ernest,  you  are  my  friend." 

"  He  save  my  little  boy ;  I  will  always  be 
his  friend." 

"  You  have  saved  my  boy,  my  Indian  friend, 
and  you  will  always  be  my  friend,"  returned 
Luke. 

"  Well,  Luke,  what  shall  we  do  ?  I  have 
done  my  errand  and  delivered  the  bonds.  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  go  back  to  Emmonsville." 

"  We  will  go  back.  I  have  found  you,  and 
have  no  more  to  do  here." 

"Shall  we  walk?" 

"  No,  it  is  too  far.  There  is  a  stable  a  little 
way  from  here  ;  I  will  hire  a  conveyance,  and 
our  Indian  friend  will  perhaps  be  willing  to 
drive  us  over." 

The  Indian  expressed  his  willingness,  and 
the  three  were  soon  on  their  way  through  the 
woods.  They  met  with  no  adventure,  nor  did 
they  fear  any,  for  it  would  have  required  a 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  193 

brave  man  to  attack  two  such  stalwart  persons 
as  the  Indian  and  the  Quaker  detective. 

Leaving  them  for  the  present,  we  will  go 
back  to  the  cave  from  which  Ernest  had  made 
so  unceremonious  a  departure. 

Frank  slept  for  two  hours,  but  at  length 
opened  his  eyes,  expecting  to  see  Ernest  sit 
ting  at  his  bedside. 

He  looked  in  vain.  There  was  no  one  in 
the  room.  This  did  not  surprise  him  much, 
however.  He  thought  Ernest  might  have 
gone  into  the  next  apartment. 

"  Ernest!"  he  cried,  but  his  call  received 
no  response. 

The  little  boy  got  out  of  bed  and  looked 
about,  but  his  search  was  vain. 

So  he  went  into  the  kitchen,  where  he 
found  Juba  engaged  in  some  domestic  work. 

"  Juba,"  he  said,  "  where  is  Ernest." 

"  I  don't  know,  chile.  Isn't  he  in  the  big 
room  ?" 

"  No,  Juba.  I  went  to  sleep,  and  when  I 
woke  up  he  was  gone." 

"  Lor',  chile,  he  round  somewhere.  You 
look  round,  and  maybe  you  find  him." 

13 


194       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

But  Frank  was  doomed  to  disappointment. 
He  sat  down  ready  to  cry.  He  felt  very 
lonely.  He  had  not  realized  how  much  he 
enjoyed  Ernest's  company. 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  can  have  gone, 
Juba.  Do  you  think  he's  gone  and  left  me?" 

"  I  can't  tell,  chile.  Wait  till  your  papa 
comes  home.  He  will  find  him." 

Frank  had  to  wait  an  hour  and  a  half  be 
fore  his  father's  return.  All  this  time  he  was 
buoyed  up  by  the  hope  that  Ernest  would 
come  back.  He  was  continually  watching  the 
portal  to  see  if  the  runaway  would  not  come, 
but  in  vain. 

James  Fox  entered  the  room  with  grave 
face  and  heavy  step.  He  had  not  heard  of 
his  brother's  escape,  and  thought  him  still  an 
inmate  of  Crampton  jail. 

He  looked  about  for  his  young  captive. 

"  Where  is  Ernest,  Frank  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,  papa.  I  miss  him  ever  so 
much,"  said  the  little  boy  tearfully. 

"  But  he  must  be  somewhere  about.  When 
did  you  miss  him  ?" 

"  He  went  away  when  I  was  asleep." 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  195 

The  outlaw's  suspicions  were  aroused. 

"  I  will  look  for  him,"  he  said. 

But  Ernest  was  in  none  of  the  rooms,  nor 
could  Juba  give  any  account  of  him. 

"  Did  you  walk  with  him  into  the  interior 
of  the  cave,  Frank  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  papa." 

"  Ha,  that  explains  it.  Go  with  me,  and 
tell  me  just  where  you  went." 

The  little  boy  led  the  way  through  the  va 
cant  apartments  till  he  reached  the  one 
through  which  the  light  came  from  above. 

The  rope  was  still  hanging  from  the  pro 
jection,  and  this  explained  Ernest's  escape. 
James  Fox  went  up  and  examined  it. 

"  He  must  have  got  out  this  way,"  said  the 
outlaw. 

"  Won't  he  come  back,  papa  ?"  said  Frank, 
sadly. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  father,  resolutely.  "I  will 
bring  him  back." 


196       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

GIVEN    IN    TRUST. 

"  TT7ELL,  lad,  have  you  had  enough  of 

VV       Emmonsville?" 

The  speaker  was  Luke  Robbins,  and  the 
time  was  two  days  after  the  series  of  exciting 
incidents  recorded  in  the  last  few  chapters. 

"  Why  do  you  ask,  Luke?"  replied  Ernest. 
"Are  you  tired  of  it?" 

"  Yes,  lad,  I  want  to  move  on.  There  is 
nothing  more  for  us  here." 

"  But  what  about  the  reward  you  are  en 
titled  to  for  the  capture  of  John  Fox  ?" 

"  The  cashier  thinks  I  will  only  receive  a 
part  of  it,  as  Fox  has  escaped  and  is  now  at 
large." 

"  That  is  unlucky.  You  will  have  to  wait 
until  the  matter  is  decided,  won't  you  ?" 

"  No.  He  has  offered  me  an  advance  of  a 
hundred  dollars,  and  is  authorized  to  collect 


GIVEN  IN  TRUST.  197 

whatever  prize-money  may  be  awarded  to  me. 
You  have  some  money  left  ?" 

"  Yes,  about  seventy-five  dollars." 
"  Then  we  both  have  enough  to  start  on. 
I  propose  to  go  to  California  by  cars,  getting 
there  as  soon  as  possible.  When  we  reach 
there  we  will  see  what  we  can  do  to  increase 
our  pile." 

"  I  like  that  plan.     When  shall  we  go  ?" 
"  It  is  now  Thursday.     We  will  start  on 
Monday." 

Before  they  departed  there  was  some  sensa 
tional  news.  Peter  Longman,  one  of  the  Fox 
band,  taking  offence  at  some  slight  put  upon 
him  by  James  Fox,  went  to  the  authorities 
and  revealed  the  existence  and  location  of  the 
cave,  with  other  information  of  a  like  nature. 
The  result  was  that  a  strong  police  force  was  sent 
to  surprise  and  capture  the  notorious  outlaws. 
The  visit  was  made  at  night,  and  under 
guidance  of  Peter  himself.  Wholly  unsus 
picious  of  treachery,  the  outlaws  were  captured 
in  their  beds,  and  the  valuable  articles  con 
tained  in  trunks  and  boxes  in  the  store-room 
were  confiscated. 


198       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

James  Fox  was  reclining  on  the  sofa  when 
the  officers  entered. 

"  Is  your  name  Fox  ?"  asked  the  leader  of 
the  invading  party. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  outlaw,  proudly. 

"  Then  you  are  my  prisoner." 

"  Who  has  betrayed  me  ?"  demanded  Fox, 
quickly. 

There  was  no  answer,  but  just  behind  the 
invading  party  the  outlaw  caught  sight  of 
Peter  Longman,  apparently  trying  to  screen 
himself  from  observation. 

"  I  need  not  ask,"  he  said.  "  There  is  the 
treacherous  hound.  He  shall  not  live  to  profit 
by  his  baseness." 

Before  any  one  could  interfere,  James  Fox 
leveled  his  revolver  at  Longman,  and  a  sharp 
scream  showed  that  his  aim  was  true.  His 
treacherous  follower  fell  to  the  ground  mor 
tally  wounded. 

James  Fox  looked  at  him  disdainfully, 
then  threw  the  revolver  upon  the  floor  of  the 
cave,  and  held  out  his  hands.  "  Now  bind 
me  if  you  will,"  he  said;  "I  am  your  cap 
tive."  " 


GIVEN  IN  TEUST.  199 

Little  Frank  was  a  terrified  witness  of  this 
scene. 

"What  are  they  doing  to  you,  papa?"  he 
asked.  "  They  are  bad  men." 

In  spite  of  his  fortitude  the  outlaw  showed 
traces  of  emotion.  "  That  is  my  little  son," 
he  said  to  the  lieutenant  commanding. 
"Don't  let  him  suffer  for  the  sins  of  his 
father." 

"  He  shall  be  taken  care  of.  Do  not  be 
anxious  about  him." 

"  There  is  an  old  colored  woman  here — 
Juba,"  went  on  the  outlaw.  "The  boy  is 
used  to  her.  If  possible,  let  them  be  to 
gether." 

Under  a  strong  guard  the  famous  robbers 
were  carried  to  jail,  and  the  cave  which  had 
been  for  years  their  meeting-place  was  dis 
mantled  and  was  never  again  used  for  a  crim 
inal  resort. 

When  Ernest  read  the  story  his  feelings 
were  mixed.  He  rejoiced  that  the  outlaws 
were  taken,  but  he  felt  a  sympathy  for  little 
Frank,  and  understood  what  a  shock  it  must 
be  to  the  father  and  son  to  be  separated,  and 


200  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

to  have  their  home  so  suddenly  and  violently 
broken  up. 

He  learned  where  Frank  was,  and  called 
upon  him.  He  had  been  taken  to  his  own 
home  by  the  police  commander,  and  it  was 
there  that  Ernest  found  him. 

When  he  entered  the  room  where  Frank 
sat  disconsolately  at  the  window,  the  little  fel 
low  uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 

"Is  it  you,  Ernest?"  he  said,  running  for 
ward.  "  I  thought  I  should  never  see  you 
again." 

Ernest  stooped  over  and  kissed  the  little 
boy. 

"  You  see  I  am  here,"  he  said. 

"  What  made  you  go  away  ?  Why  didn't 
you  tell  me  you  were  going?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  some  time,  Frank.  I  hope 
you  are  feeling  well." 

"Why  did  those  bad  men  take  papa 
away?" 

"  I  do  not  think  you  would  understand. 
Where  is  Juba?" 

"She  is  now  in  the  kitchen.  I  will  call 
her." 


GIVEN  IN  TRUST.  201 

Juba  came  in,  and  seemed  pleased  to  see 
Ernest. 

"  I  have  got  a  letter  for  you,  honey,"  she 
said,  fumbling  in  her  pocket. 

She  brought  out  a  yellow  envelope.  It  was 
directed  to  Ernest. 

The  contents  ran  thus  : 

Now  that  misfortune  has  come  upon  me,  my  chief 
thought  is  for  my  boy.  Whatever  befalls  me,  I  want 
him  cared  for.  You  are  scarcely  more  than  a 
stranger  to  me,  but  when  you  were  in  the  cave  you 
seemed  to  love  Frank.  Poor  boy,  he  will  stand  in 
need  of  some  friend  who  loves  him.  So  far  as  you 
can,  will  you  be  his  friend  and  guardian  ?  He  has 
some  property — a  few  thousand  dollars — which  you 
will  hold  in  trust  for  him.  It  is  not  stolen  property. 
It  was  left  him  by  his  mother. 

Call  upon  Mr.  Samuel  Hardy,  a  lawyer  in  Lee's 
Falls,  and  he  will  make  over  to  you  the  custody  of 
the  money,  and  look  upon  you  as  the  authorized 
guardian  of  Frank.  You  know  my  wish  that  he 
should  be  sent  to  a  good  school  and  properly  educated. 
Will  you  carry  out  my  wishes  in  that  respect?  I 
do  not  wish  to  tie  you  down,  but  wherever  you  may 
go,  keep  up  an  active  interest  in  my  boy,  and  from 
time  to  time  write  to  him. 

I  do  not  know  what  my  fate  may  be.  I  am  not  a 
coward,  and  shall  not  complain  or  beg  for  mercy. 


202       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

When  you  speak  of  me  to  Frank  in  after  years,  al 
ways  paint  me  at  my  best,  and  let  him  understand 
that  at  least  I  loved  him. 

JAMES  Fox. 

P.  S. — Should  Frank  die  before  maturity,  I  desire 
that  his  property  should  go  to  you. 

Ernest  read  the  foregoing  with  mingled 
feelings.  He  knew  that  the  writer  was  an 
outlaw,  deeply  stained  with  crime;  but  this 
letter  showed  him  at  his  best.  Paternal  love 
softened  the  harsh  outlines  of  his  character, 
and  spoke  of  a  nature  that  might  have  made 
him  a  blessing  instead  of  a  curse  to  his  kind. 

Ernest  lost  no  time  in  communicating  with 
Mr.  Hardy. 

The  lawyer  read  the  letter  in  some  surprise. 

"Mr.  Fox  seems  to  have  appointed  a  young 
guardian  for  his  son,"  he  remarked. 

"Yes,  sir;  but  he  appeared  to  have  no 
choice.  It  would  have  been  better  had  he 
appointed  you." 

"  No ;  I  do  not  care  to  assume  that  re 
sponsibility.  I  am  ready  to  assist  you,  how 


ever." 


I  will  depend  upon  you,  then,  for  I  shall 


GIVEN  IN  TRUST.  203 

start  for  California  as  soon  as  possible. 
Can  you  recommend  a  satisfactory  boarding- 
school  r 

"  I  have  a  son  at  school  in  Lincoln.  The 
school  is  under  the  charge  of  a  clergyman, 
who  is  an  efficient  teacher,  yet  is  popular  with 
his  pupils." 

"  Can  you  arrange  to  enter  Frank  at  his 
school?" 

"  I  will  do  so,  if  you  authorize  me." 

"  I  don't  think  we  can  do  any  better.  Were 
you  aware  that  Mr.  Fox  was  the  notorious 
outlaw  ?"  asked  Ernest,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  did  not  know,  but  latterly  I  have  sus 
pected  it.  You  may  be  surprised  that  under 
the  circumstances  I  should  have  consented  to 
serve  him.  But  I  felt  that  I  might  be  of  as 
sistance  to  the  boy,  and  that  my  refusal  would 
occasion  him  embarrassment.  Your  letter  is 
satisfactory,  as  showing  that  the  fortune  of 
your  ward  is  not  made  up  of  ill-gotten  gains. 
Were  it  otherwise,  he  would  hardly  be  al 
lowed  to  keep  it.  Does  Frank  know  his 
father's  character  and  reputation  ?" 

"I  don't  think  so." 


204       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  It  had  best  be  kept  from  him.  I  will  see 
that  it  does  not  become  known  at  school.  It 
would  wound  the  boy  to  be  twitted  with  it  by 
his  schoolmates." 

Thanks  to  Mr.  Hardy,  Ernest  found  that 
the  new  charge  imposed  upon  him  would  not 
materially  interfere  with  his  plans.  A  week 
later  than  he  had  originally  intended  he  and 
Luke  Bobbins  left  Ernmonsville  by  a  Western- 
bound  train. 

As  they  rushed  rapidly  over  the  prairies, 
Luke  Bobbins  turned  to  his  young  companion 
and  said,  "  Our  journey  thus  far  has  been  ad 
venturous.  I  wonder  what  lies  before  us?" 

"  We  won't  trouble  ourselves  on  that  score, 
Luke.  I  feel  hopeful." 

"  So  do  I ;  and  yet  we  have  less  than  two 
hundred  dollars  between  us." 

"  That's  true." 

"  Still,  I  have  captured  an  outlaw,  and  you, 
at  the  age  of  sixteen,  are  the  guardian  of  an 
outlaw's  son." 

"  I  don't  think  we  shall  meet  with  anything 
stranger  than  that." 

Two  days  later,  iu  a  newspaper  bought  at 


GIVEN  IN  TRUST.         !,!  205 

an  important  station,  there  was  an  article  that 
deeply  interested  both  travellers.  It  related 
to  the  Fox  brothers,  recounting  their  daring 
attempt  to  escape  from  the  jail  where  they 
were  confined.  John  Fox  got  away,  but 
James  was  shot  dead  by  one  of  the  prison 
guards. 

So  Frank  was  an  orphan,  and  Ernest 
felt  that  his  responsibility  was  increased. 


206       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

STEPHEN    RAY    AND    HIS   SON. 

T  EAVING  Ernest  and  Luke  Robbing  on 
I  1  their  way  to  California,  our  attention  is 
called  to  other  characters  who  must  play  a  part 
in  the  drama  of  the  boy  from  Oak  Forks. 

A  few  miles  from  Elmira,  upon  an  emi 
nence  from  which  there  was  a  fine  view  of  the 
surrounding  country,  stood  the  handsome 
country  mansion  of  Stephen  Ray,  already  re 
ferred  to  as  the  cousin  of  Ernest's  father.  It 
passed  into  his  possession  by  inheritance  from 
poor  Ernest's  grandfather,  the  will  under 
which  the  bequest  was  made  cutting  off  his 
son  for  no  worse  a  crime  than  marrying  a  girl 
thoroughly  respectable  but  of  humble  birth. 

Stephen  Ray,  since  he  came  into  possession 
of  his  uncle's  estate,  had  improved  it  consider 
ably.  He  had  torn  down  the  old  stable  and 
built  an  imposing  new  one.  The  plain  car- 


STEPHEN  RAY  AND  HIS  SON.  207 

riage  which  had  satisfied  his  uncle  had  been 
succeeded  by  an  elegant  coach,  and  the  sober 
but  rather  slow  horse  by  a  pair  of  spirited 
steeds. 

Mr.  Ray  had  become  pompous,  and  by  his 
manner  made  it  clear  that  he  considered  him 
self  a  man  of  great  consequence.  He  was  a 
local  magistrate,  and  had  for  years  endeavored 
to  obtain  a  nomination  for  Congress. 

Had  he  been  of  popular  manners  he  would 
probably  have  succeeded,  but  he  was  not  a 
favorite  among  the  poorer  classes,  and  their 
vote  must  be  considered. 

There  is  an  old  saying,  "  Like  father,  like 
son,"  and  Clarence,  now  turned  sixteen,  the 
only  child  of  the  country  magnate,  was  like 
his  father  in  all  objectionable  qualities.  He 
was  quite  as  much  impressed  with  ideas  of  his 
own  consequence. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
Mr.  Ray  sat  on  the  piazza,  the  day  being  un 
usually  warm,  reading  a  newspaper.  In  the 
street,  near  by,  his  son  Clarence  was  moving 
swiftly  on  a  new  bicycle  which  his  father  had 
just  purchased  for  him. 


208       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Out  of  the  way,  there !"  he  called  out,  as 
a  shabbily-dressed  stranger  with  a  weary  step 
plodded  along  the  pathway. 

Whether  because  he  was  hard  of  hearing  or 
because  his  mind  was  preoccupied,  the  stranger 
did  not  heed  the  warning,  and  Clarence,  who 
might  easily  have  avoided  the  collision,  ran 
into  him  recklessly.  Had  the  bicycle  been 
moving  at  a  greater  rate  of  speed,  he  might 
have  been  seriously  hurt.  As  it  was,  he  was 
nearly  thrown  down. 

But  he  rallied,  and  seizing  the  offending 
rider  with  no  gentle  grasp,  dragged  him  from 
the  wheel  and  shook  him  vigorously. 

"  Let  me  alone,  you  tramp !"  exclaimed 
Clarence,  furiously. 

But  the  stranger  did  not  release  his  hold. 

"  Not  till  you  apologize  for  running  into 
me/'  he  answered  sternly. 

"Apologize  to  a  man  like  you  !"  ejaculated 
Clarence,  struggling  furiously  for  his  freedom. 
"What  do  you  take  me  for?" 

"  Fj r  an  impudent  young  rascal/'  was  the 
reply. 

"  Let  me  alone,  I  tell  you !" 


STEPHEN  RAY  AND  HIS  SON.  209 

"  Will  you  apologize  ?" 

"  There  is  no  need  of  an  apology.  You  got 
in  my  way." 

"  You  have  no  business  on  the  sidewalk 
with  your  bicycle.  It  is  meant  for  foot- 
passengers." 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?"  demanded  Clar 
ence,  haughtily. 

"  No,  I  don't,  nor  do  I  care." 

"  I  am  Clarence  Kay,  son  of  Squire  Stephen 
Ray.  He  is  a  magistrate,  and  he  can  send 
you  to  jail." 

These  words  of  Clarence  had  the  effect  he 
desired.  The  stranger  released  him  and  eyed 
him  with  close  scrutiny. 

"  So  you  are  the  son  of  Stephen  Ray  ?"  he 
said. 

"  Yes.     What  have  you  to  say  now  ?" 

"  That  you  had  no  right  to  run  into  me, 
whoever  your  father  may  be." 

"  I  shall  report  your  insolence  to  my  father. 
I  shall  charge  you  with  violently  assaulting 


me." 


"  I  might  have  known  you  were  Stephen 
Ray's  son,"  said  the  stranger  thoughtfully. 

14 


210       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Do  you  know  ray  father  ?"  asked  Clarence 
in  considerable  surprise. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  call  upon  him." 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  do  any  good.  He 
never  gives  money  to  tramps." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  give  you  another 
shaking  up,"  said  the  man,  and  in  some  fear 
Clarence  edged  away  from  him. 

It  was  evident  that  this  shabby-looking 
stranger  had  not  a  proper  respect  for  those 
who  were  in  a  higher  station. 

"I  will  tell  him  not  to  give  you  anything," 
continued  Clarence. 

"  Like  father,  like  son,"  said  the  stranger 
thoughtfully,  apparently  not  disturbed  by  the 
boy's  threats. 

Evidently  he  was  no  common  tramp,  or  he 
would  have  been  more  respectful  to  the  son 
of  the  man  from  whom  he  was  probably  about 
to  ask  a  favor. 

"  You  just  wait  till  you  see  my  father.  He'll 
give  you  a  lecture  that  you  won't  soon  forget." 

"  You'd  better  get  on  your  wheel,  boy,  and 
go  right  along,"  said  the  stranger  calmly. 

"  Do  you  know  where  my  father  lives  ?" 


STEPHEN  RAY  AND  HIS  SON.  211 

"  Yes,  at  yonder  fine  house.  I  see  him  sit 
ting  out  on  the  piazza.  Shall  we  go  along  to 
gether?" 

"  No,  I  don't  keep  such  company  as  you. 
Tramps  are  not  my  style." 

"  And  yet  some  day  you  may  be  as  poor 
and  friendless  as  myself." 

"  That  isn't  very  likely;  my  father  is  a  very 
rich  man." 

"  I  knew  him  when  he  was  poor." 

More  and  more  puzzled  by  the  independent 
manner  of  this  shabby  stranger,  Clarence  made 
a  spurt,  and  soon  found  himself  in  the  grounds 
of  his  father's  house. 

"With  whom  were  you  talking,  Clarence?" 
asked  Stephen  Kay,  as  his  son  joined  him  on 
the  piazza. 

"  One  of  the  most  impudent  tramps  I  ever 
came  across,"  answered  Clarence.  "  He  made 
an  attack  upon  me,  and  pulled  me  from  my 
bicycle." 

Stephen  Ray's  cheek  flamed  with  anger. 
An  insult  to  his  son  was  an  insult  to  him. 

"  Why  did  he  do  this  ?  How  dared  he  ?" 
he  demanded  angrily. 


212       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Because  I  happened  to  touch  him  as  I 
passed,"  answered  Clarence. 

"  He  actually  pulled  you  from  your  bicycle?" 
asked  Stephen  Ray,  almost  incredulous. 

"Yes." 

"  I  should  like  to  meet  him.  I  should  feel 
justified  in  ordering  his  arrest." 

"  You  will  have  a  chance  to  meet  him.  He 
told  me  he  was  going  to  call  upon  you — there 
he  is  now,  entering  the  gate." 

Stephen  was  glad  to  hear  it.  He  wanted  to 
empty  the  vials  of  his  wrath  on  the  audacious 
offender.  He  prided  himself  on  his  grand 
manner. 

He  was  accustomed  to  seeing  men  of  the 
stamp  of  this  stranger  quail  before  him  and 
show  nervous  alarm  at  his  rebukes.  He  had 
no  doubt  that  his  majestic  wrath  would  over 
whelm  the  shabby  outcast  who  had  audacious 
ly  assaulted  his  son  and  heir. 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  stood  the  personifi 
cation  of  haughty  displeasure  as  the  poor  man, 
who  dared  his  anger,  walked  composedly  up 
the  path.  He  now  stood  by  the  piazza  steps. 

"It  is  well  you  have  come  here,"  began  the 


STEPHEN  RAY  AND  HIS  SONi  213 

squire  in  a  dignified  tone.  "  My  son  tells  me 
that  you  have  committed  an  unprovoked  out 
rage  upon  him  in  dragging  him  from  his 
wheel.  I  can  only  conclude  that  you  are 
under  the  influence  of  liquor." 

Stephen  Ray  waited  curiously  to  hear  what 
the  man  would  say.  He  was  prepared  for 
humble  apologies. 

"I  am  no  more  drunk  than  yourself,  if  that 
is  what  you  mean,  Stephen  Ray,"  was  the 
unexpected  reply. 

Squire  Ray  was  outraged  and  scandalized. 

"You  must  be  drunk  or  you  would  not  dare 
to  talk  in  this  way.  Who  authorized  you  to 
address  me  in  this  familiar  way  ?" 

"  You  are  only  a  man,  I  believe,  Stephen 
Ray.  I  have  addressed  you  as  respectfully 
as  you  have  spoken  to  me." 

"Respect — to  you?"  repeated  Mr.  Ray, 
disdainfully.  "  Has  the  time  come  when  we 
must  be  respectful  to  tramps  ?" 

"A  poor  tramp  is  quite  as  deserving  of 
respect  as  a  rich  rascal." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded 
the  squire  suspiciously. 


214       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  It  was  a  general  remark." 

"  It  is  well  that  it  was.  But  it  has  no  ap 
plication  in  the  present  instance.  If  you  are 
poor  I  will  give  you  a  quarter,  but  only  on 
condition  that  you  apologize  to  my  son." 

The  stranger  laughed. 

"Why  should  I  apologize  to  your  son?"  he 
asked. 

"  You  pulled  him  off  his  bicycle.  Do  you 
deny  it?" 

"No,  I  do  not.  Do  you  know  what  he 
did?" 

"  He  brushed  against  you  with  his  wheel, 
he  tells  me,  accidentally." 

"  So  that  is  his  version  of  it  ?  He  deliber 
ately  ran  into  me." 

"  I  gave  you  warning.  I  said  '  Out  of  the 
way,  there  !'  "  interrupted  Clarence. 

"  Yes,  but  you  had  no  right  on  the  side 
walk.  That  is  meant  for  foot-passengers." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  sir,  that  you  are  remark 
ably  independent  for  a  man  of  your  rank. 
Even  if  it  had  been  as  you  say,  you  had  no 
right  to  assault  my  son.  I  might  have  you 
arrested  on  your  own  confession,  but  I  will 


STEPHEN  BAY  AND  HIS  SON.  215 

forbear  doing  so  on  condition  that  you  leave 
town  at  once." 

"  I  have  a  little  business  with  you,  first, 
Stephen  Kay." 

"  If  you  expect  alms,  you  have  come  to  the 
wrong  man.  I  don't  believe  in  encouraging 
beggars." 

"  I  know  very  well  that  you  are  not  chari 
table.  You  see,  I  used  to  be  acquainted  with 

you." 

"Who  are  you?" 
"  My  name  is  Benjamin  Bolton." 
Stephen  Ray  looked  startled. 
"  Benjamin  Bolton !"  he  repeated,  half  in 
credulous.     "  I  can't  believe  it." 


216  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

A    STARTLING    DISCLOSURE. 

"  T  OOK  at  me  closely,  Stephen  Kay,"  said 
I  A     the    strange    visitor.     "  I  think   you 
will  see  some  traces  of  the  Bolton  you  used  to 
know." 

Stephen  Ray,  somewhat  discomposed,  did 
examine  his  visitor  closely.  Against  his  will 
he  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  the  resemblance 
of  the  man  before  him  to  one  who  in  past  times 
had  had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  his  af 
fairs. 

"  You  may  be  Benjamin  Bolton,"  he  said 
after  a  pause,  "  but  if  so,  you  have  fallen  off 
greatly  in  your  appearance.  When  I  first 

knew  you,  you  were  well  dressed  and " 

"  Respectable,  I  suppose  you  mean  to  say?" 
"  Well,  respectable,  if  you  will  have  it  so. 
Now  you  look  more  like  a  tramp  than  a  law 
yer." 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  217 

"  True  as  gospel,  every  word  of  it.  But  it 
isn't  too  late  to  mend.  That's  an  old  proverb 
and  a  true  one.  It  is  quite  in  the  line  of  pos 
sibility  that  I  should  get  back  to  the  position 
from  which  I  fell." 

"Perhaps  so,  but  I'm  not  sanguine  of  it." 

"  With  your  powerful  help  nothing  is  im 
possible — not  even  that." 

"  You  must  not  count  upon  that,"  said  Ste 
phen  Ray,  stiffly.  "  It  is  a  good  while  since 
we  parted  company.  I  don't  myself  care  to 
renew  the  acquaintance." 

"  But  I  do,"  rejoined  Bolton  with  emphasis. 
"  I  told  you  that  I  had  business  with  you." 

"  I  have  very  little  time  at  my  disposal," 
said  Ray,  pulling  out  an  elegant  gold  watch — 
a  Jurgensen — and  consulting  it. 

"I  think  it  may  be  well  for  you  to  spare  me 
a  little  time,"  went  on  Bolton,  quietly. 

There  was  something  in  his  tone  that  sounded 
like  a  threat,  and  Stephen  Ray  could  not  wholly 
conceal  his  uneasiness. 

"  Well,  he  said,  "  I  will  give  you  ten  min 
utes.  Get  through  your  business,  whatever  it 
is,  as  soon  as  possible." 


218  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  send  your  son  away  ?" 
suggested  Bolton,  significantly. 

"  Why  should  I  ?" 

But  on  second  thoughts  Mr.  Ray  concluded 
to  act  on  the  hint,  and  turning  to  Clarence  he 
said,  "  Clarence,  you  might  take  another  spin 
on  your  wheel." 

This  did  not  suit  Clarence  at  all.  His  cu 
riosity  had  been  excited  by  his  father's  change 
of  front  towards  the  objectionable  stranger,  and 
he  counted  on  finding  out  the  reason  for  it. 

"  Why  can't  I  stay  ?"  he  grumbled.  "  I  am 
tired  of  riding." 

"  Then  go  up  stairs.  This  man  and  I  have 
a  little  private  business  together." 

He  spoke  firmly,  and  Clarence  knew  by  his 
tone  that  further  remonstrance  would  be  un 
availing,  so  with  a  dissatisfied  look  he  left  the 
room. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Stephen  Ray,  sharply, 
when  his  son  had  taken  his  departure,  "  I 
gave  you  ten  minutes.  You  will  need  to  be 
expeditious." 

"  It  will  take  more  than  ten  minutes — what 
I  have  to  say,"  returned  Bolton,  coolly.  "  I 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  219 

am  rather  tired  of  standing,  so  you  will  excuse 
me  if  I  sit  down." 

As  he  spoke  he  dropped  into  a  comfortable 
chair  three  feet  from  his  host. 

"  Confound  his  impudence !"  thought  Kay, 
much  annoyed. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  go  indoors,"  he 
said. 

He  did  not  care  to  be  seen  in  an  apparently 
friendly  conversation  with  a  man  like  Bolton. 

"  Very  well.  I  think  myself  it  may  be 
better." 

He  followed  Ray  into  a  room  which  the  latter 
used  as  a  library  and  office,  and  took  care  to 
select  a  comfortable  seat. 

"  Really,  Stephen  Ray,"  he  remarked,  glanc 
ing  around  him  at  the  well-filled  bookcases, 
the  handsome  pictures,  and  the  luxurious  fur 
niture,  "  you  are  very  nicely  fixed  here." 

"  I  suppose  you  didn't  come  to  tell  me  that," 
responded  Stephen  Ray  with  a  sneer. 

"Well,  not  altogether,  but  it  is  as  well  to 
refer  to  it.  I  have  known  you  a  good  many 
years.  I  remember  when  you  first  came  here 
to  visit  your  uncle  in  the  character  of  a  poor 


220       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

relation.     I  don't  believe  you  had  a  hundred 
dollars  to  your  name." 

Such  references  grated  upon  the  purse-proud 
aristocrat,  who  tried  to  persuade  himself  that 
he  had  always  been  as  prosperous  as  at  pres 
ent. 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  your  reminis 
cences/'  he  said  stiffly. 

"  No,  I  suppose  you  don't  care  to  think  of 
those  days  now.  Your  cousin,  Dudley,  a  fine 
young  man,  was  a  year  or  two  older.  Who 
would  have  thought  that  the  time  would  come 
when  you — the  poor  cousin — would  be  reign 
ing  in  his  place  ?" 

"  If  that  is  all  you  have  to  say,  our  interview 
may  as  well  close." 

"  It  isn't  all  I  have  to  say.  I  must  indulge 
in  a  few  more  reminiscences,  though  you  dis 
like  them.  A  few  years  passed.  Dudley  mar 
ried  against  his  father's  wishes;  that  is,  his 
father  did  not  approve  of  his  selection,  and  he 
fell  out  of  favor.  As  he  lost  favor  you  gained 
it." 

"  That  is  true  enough,  but  it  is  an  old  story. 
Why  recall  it?" 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  221 

"  Does  it  seem  just  that  an  own  son  should 
be  disinherited  and  a  stranger " 

"  A  near  relative,"  corrected  Stephen  Kay. 

"  Well,  a  near  relative,  but  less  near  than 
an  only  son.  Does  it  seem  right  that  Dudley 
should  have  been  disinherited  and  you  put  in 
his  place  ?" 

"Certainly.  My  cousin  disobeyed  his 
father,  while  I  was  always  dutiful  and  obedi 
ent." 

"  So  he  was  left  in  poverty." 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  concerns  you,  Ben 
jamin  Bolton.  My  uncle  had  the  right  to 
dispose  of  his  property  as  he  pleased.  It  was 
not  for  me  to  question  his  right — nor  you." 

"  Probably  Dudley  Ray  is  living  in  poverty 


now." 


"  You  are  mistaken.     He  is  dead." 

"  Indeed  !  Poor  fellow.  He  was  a  gener 
ous  and  high-minded  man." 

"Whatever  he  may  have  been,  he  offended 
his  father  and  suffered  the  consequences." 

"  Too  true !" 

"  But  I  fail  to  understand  why  you  should 
have  come  to  discuss  this  matter  with  me." 


222       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"When  did  Dudley  die?" 

"  I  can't  be  sure  as  to  the  year.  I  think  it 
was  about  a  year  after  his  father's  death." 

"  I  presume  that  his  father's  injustice 
helped  to  hasten  his  end." 

"  I  won't  permit  any  reflections  upon  my  dear 
uncle  and  benefactor.  He  did  what  he  liked 
with  his  own.  He  felt  that  the  estate  would 
be  better  in  my  hands  than  in  Dudley's." 

"  Admitting  for  a  moment  that  this  was  so, 
did  your  heart  prompt  you  to  bestow  a  part 
of  the  estate  on  your  unfortunate  cousin  ?" 

"  No ;  for  I  am  sure  my  uncle  would  have 
disapproved  of  such  action  on  my  part." 

"  Do  you  know  if  he  suffered  much  from 
poverty  ?" 

"  No ;  I  did  not  concern  myself  with  that, 
nor  need  you." 

"  I  would  like  to  comment  on  one  of  your 
statements.  You  say  that  your  uncle  had  a 
right  to  dispose  of  his  estate  as  he  pleased." 

"  Do  you  dispute  it  ?" 

"No;  I  agree  with  you.  Stephen  Kay, 
was  his  estate  disposed  of  according  to  his 
wishes?" 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  223 

Mr.  Ray  started,  and  his  face  became 
flushed. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  mean  that  he  bequeathed  the  estate  to 
his  son,  and  you  took  possession  of  it." 

Bolton  spoke  slowly,  and  eyed  Stephen 
Ray  keenly. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?"  gasped  Stephen.  "  How 
could  I  do  that?  His  will,  devising  the  estate 
to  me,  was  duly  probated,  and  I  entered  upon 
my  inheritance  by  due  process  of  law." 

"  I  know  such  a  will  was  probated." 

"  Then  what  have  you  to  say  ?"  demanded 
Stephen  Ray,  defiantly.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
deny  that  the  will  was  genuine  ?" 

"No." 

"  Because  if  you  do,  you  can  go  to  the  pro 
bate  office,  and  submit  the  will  to  any  judge 
of  my  uncle's  handwriting." 

"  There  will  be  no  occasion.  I  admit  that 
the  will  was  written  by  him." 

"What  do  you  mean,  then?"  asked  Stephen 
Ray,  showing  relief. 

"  I  mean  this — that  it  was  not  his  last  will 
and  testament." 


224       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Where  is  the  later  one  ?  Produce  it  if 
you  can,"  said  Stephen  Kay,  triumphantly. 

"  You  say  this  fearlessly  because  you  found 
a  later  will — and  destroyed  it." 

"  It  is  a  vile  slander  I" 

"No;  I  will  swear  that  such  a  will  was 
made." 

"  If  it  was  destroyed,  he  destroyed  it  him 
self." 

"  No,  he  did  not.  I  am  willing  to  swear 
that  when  he  died  that  will  was  in  existence." 

"  I  don't  think  your  swearing  will  do  much 
good,"  sneered  Stephen  Ray. 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  one  thing  has  not  oc 
curred  to  you." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  A  duplicate  of  the  last  will  was  placed  in 
my  hands.  That  will  exists  to-day  !" 

Stephen  Ray  started  violently. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  he  said. 

"  Seeing  is  believing." 

"  Then  bring  it  here,  and  let  me  see  it. 
However,  there  is  one  material  circumstance 
that  would  make  it  of  no  value." 

"What  is  it?" 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  225 

"  My  cousin  Dudley  is  dead,  and  so  is  his 
son  Ernest.  There  would  be  no  one  to  profit 
by  the  production  of  the  alleged  will." 

Bolton  was  quite  taken  aback  by  this  state 
ment,  as  Stephen  Ray  perceived,  and  he  plumed 
himself  on  the  success  of  his  falsehood. 

"  When  did  the  boy  die  ?"  asked  Bolton. 

"About  five  years  ago." 

"  And  where  ?" 

"  At  Savannah,"  answered  Ray,  glibly. 

"  What  should  have  taken  him  down  there?" 

"  I  am  not  positive,  but  I  believe  after  his 
father's  death  a  Southern  gentleman  became 
interested  in  him  and  took  him  to  Georgia, 
where  the  poor  boy  died." 

Bolton  looked  keenly  at  the  face  of  his 
companion,  and  detected  an  expression  of 
triumph  about  the  eyes  which  led  him  to 
doubt  the  truth  of  his  story.  But  he  decided 
not  to  intimate  his  disbelief. 

"  That  was  sad,"  he  said. 

"  Yes ;  and  as  you  will  see,  even  had  your 
story  about  the  will  been  true  it  would  have 
made  no  difference  in  the  disposal  of  the  prop* 
erty." 

15 


226       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEE. 

"  Still  the  revelation  of  your  complicity  in 
the  suppression  of  the  last  will  would  injure 
your  reputation,  Mr.  Ray." 

"  I  can  stand  it,"  answered  Eay  with  as 
sumed  indifference.  "  You  see,  my  dear  fel 
low,  you  have  brought  your  wares  to  the  wrong 
market.  Of  course  you  are  disappointed." 

"  Yes,  especially  as  I  am  dead  broke." 

"  No  doubt." 

"  And  it  prompts  me  to  take  my  chances 
with  the  will  in  spite  of  the  death  of  the  right 
ful  heirs." 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do  ?" 

"  Lay  the  matter  before  a  shrewd  lawyer 
of  my  acquaintance,  and  be  guided  by  his 
advice." 

Stephen  Ray  looked  uneasy.  The  lawyer 
might  suggest  doubts  as  to  the  truth  of  his 
story  concerning  Ernest's  decease. 

"  That  would  be  very  foolish,"  he  said. 

"  Would  it  ?  Then  perhaps  you  can  suggest 
a  better  course." 

"  You  are  a  man  of  education  and  have  been 
a  lawyer  yourself.  Get  a  place  in  the  office  of 
some  attorney  and  earn  an  honest  living." 


A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE.  227 

"  You  see  how  I  am  dressed.  Who  would 
employ  me  in  this  garb  ?" 

"  There  is  something  in  what  you  say.  I 
feel  for  you,  Bolton.  Changed  as  you  are,  you 
were  once  a  friend.  I  certainly  haven't  any 
reason  to  feel  friendly  to  you,  especially  as  you 
came  here  with  the  intention  of  extorting 
money  from  me.  But  I  can  make  allowance 
for  you  in  your  unfortunate  plight,  and  am 
willing  to  do  something  for  you.  Bring  me 
the  document  you  say  you  possess,  and  I  will 
give  you  fifty — no,  a  hundred  dollars." 

Bolton  eyed  his  prosperous  companion  with 
a  cunning  smile. 

"  No,  Stephen  Ray,  I  prefer  to  keep  the 
will,"  he  replied,  "  though  I  can  do  nothing 
with  it.  Give  me  the  money  unconditionally, 
and  if  I  get  on  my  feet  you  will  have  nothing 
to  fear  from  me." 


228  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

BOUGHT    OFF. 

BOLTON'S  reply  did  not  quite  suit  Mr. 
Ray,  but  lie  felt  that  if  he  said  too  much 
about  the  will  it  would  give  it  an  exaggerated 
importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  man  before  him. 
So  he  answered  carelessly,  "  Oh,  very  well ! 
The  document  is  of  no  value,  and  though  I 
should  prefer  to  have  it,  I  won't  insist.  I  will 
give  you  the  hundred  dollars,  but  I  wish  it 
understood  that  it  is  all  I  can  give  you  at  any 
time.  Don't  apply  to  me  again,  for  it  will  be 
of  no  use." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Bolton,  non-commit- 
tally. 

"  Shall  I  give  you  a  check  ?" 

"  I  could  do  better  with  the  money.  My 
name  is  not  known  now  at  any  bank." 

"  Well,  I  think  I  can  accommodate  you.  I 
believe  I  have  that  sum  in  my  desk." 


BOUGHT  OFF.  229 

He  opened  a  drawer  in  his  secretary,  and 
produced  a  hundred  dollars  in  crisp  new  bills. 
They  had  been  taken  from  the  bank  the  day 
before  for  a  different  purpose. 

Bolton  took  them  joyfully.  It  was  long  since 
he  had  had  so  much  money  in  his  possession. 
He  had  been  his  own  worst  enemy.  Once  a 
prosperous  lawyer,  he  had  succumbed  to  the 
love  of  drink,  and  gradually  lost  his  clients 
and  his  position.  But  he  had  decided  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf,  and  he  saw  in  this  money  the 
chance  to  reinstate  himself,  and  in  time  re 
cover  his  lost  position. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said ;  but  while  there  was 
relief  there  was  no  gratitude  in  his  tone. 

"  And  now,"  said  Stephen  Ray,  "  I  must 
ask  you  to  leave  me.  I  have  important  busi 
ness  to  attend  to.  You  will  excuse  me  if  I 
suggest  it  would  be  better  to  go  away — to  a 
distance — and  try  to  build  yourself  up  some 
where  where  you  are  not  known." 

"  I  might  go  to  Savannah." 

"  Yes,  to  Savannah,  if  you  think  it  will  be 
to  your  advantage,"  said  Ray  with  equanimity. 

The  other  noticed  his  manner,  and  he  said 


230       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

to  himself,  "  He  is  willing  to  have  me  visit 
Savannah.  It  is  clear  that  Ernest  did  not  die 
therer 

Benjamin  Bolton  left  the  house  in  a  pleas 
ant  frame  of  mind.  It  was  not  the  sum  which 
he  had  received  that  exhilarated  him.  He 
looked  upon  it  only  as  the  first  instalment. 
It  was  clear  that  Stephen  Ray  feared  him, 
for  he  was  not  an  open-handed  man,  and 
would  not  have  parted  with  his  money  un 
necessarily. 

Bolton  had  not  arranged  his  campaign,  but 
he  was  determined  to  raise  himself  in  the  world 
by  playing  on  the  fears  of  the  man  he  had  just 
visited. 

"  I  wonder/'  he  said  to  himself,  "  whether 
Dudley  Ray's  son  is  really  dead.  He  was  a 
strong  and  healthy  boy,  and  he  may  still  be 
living." 

This  was  a  point  not  easy  to  ascertain. 

He  went  to  a  restaurant  and  obtained  a  sub 
stantial  meal,  of  which  he  stood  very  much  in 
need.  Then  he  went  out  for  a  stroll.  He  did 
not  propose  to  leave  the  place  yet. 

As  he  was  walking  along  he  met  Clarence 


BOUGHT  OFF.  231 

Ray  again,  but  not  now  on  his  bicycle.  The 
boy  recognized  him. 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  in  town  ?"  asked 
Clarence,  curiously. 

"Not  long." 

"  Did  you  get  through  your  business  with 
pa?" 

"  Yes,  for  the  present.  By  the  way,  I  sup 
pose  you  know  that  you  have  a  cousin  about 
your  own  age.  I  used  to  know  him  and  his 
father." 

"  Did  you  ?     His  father  is  dead." 

"  So  I  have  understood.  Do  you  happen  to 
know  where  the  son  is  ?" 

"  Somewhere  out  West,  I  think." 

Bolton  pricked  up  his  ears.  So  it  seemed 
that  Stephen  Ray  had  deceived  him. 

"  I  would  give  five  dollars  to  know  where 
he  is,"  he  said  slowly. 

"  Have  you  got  five  dollars?"  Clarence  asked, 
doubtfully. 

By  way  of  answer  Bolton  took  a  roll  of  bills 
from  his  pocket.  They  were  those  which  Ste 
phen  Ray  had  given  him. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?"  asked  Clarence,  in  a 


232  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

more  respectful  tone.  Since  Bolton  had  money, 
he  regarded  him  differently. 

"  Yes,  I  mean  it." 

"Why  didn't  you  ask  pa?" 

"  He  never  liked  the  boy  nor  his  father,  and 
I  don't  think  he  would  tell  me." 

"That  is  true.  He  didn't  like  either  of 
them." 

"  I  suppose  you  couldn't  find  out  for  me  ?" 
said  Bolton,  tentatively. 

"I  don't  know  but  I  could,"  answered 
Clarence,  briskly. 

He  had  a  special  use  for  five  dollars,  and  it 
struck  him  that  he  might  just  as  well  earn  the 
money  offered  by  the  stranger. 

"  If  you  could,  I  would  cheerfully  pay  you 
the  f.ve  dollars.  You  see  I  used  to  know 
Ernest  Ray  and  his  father,  and  I  would  be 
pleased  to  meet  Ernest  again." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Clarence,  complaisantly. 
"How  long  are  you  going  to  remain  in 
town?" 

"  I  did  think  of  going  to  Elmira  to-night, 
but  I  think  on  the  whole  I  will  stay  at  the 
hotel  here  till  to-morrow  morning." 


BOUGHT  OFF.  233 

"  That  will  give  me  time  to  find  out,"  said 
Clarence. 

"  All  right !  You  had  better  not  ask  your 
father,  for  he  is  so  prejudiced  I  don't  think  he 
would  tell  you." 

"That's  so.  He  will  be  going  out  this 
evening,  and  then  I  will  search  in  his  desk. 
I  saw  a  letter  there  once  in  which  the  boy's 
name  was  mentioned.  But  I  say,  if  you've 
got  money  why  don't  you  buy  some  new 
clothes  ?  You  look  awfully  shabby." 

"  Your  suggestion  is  a  good  one,"  said  Bol- 
ton,  smiling.  "  Come  to  look  at  myself  I  do 
appear  shabby.  But  then  I'm  no  dude.  I 
dare  say  when  you  rode  into  me  this  morning 
you  took  me  for  a  tramp." 

"  Well,  you  did  look  like  one." 

"  That's  so.     I  can't  blame  you." 

"  Shall  I  find  you  at  the  hotel  this  even 
ing?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I'll  see  what  I  can  do." 

About  seven  o'clock  Squire  Eay  went  out 
to  attend  to  a  business  meeting,  and  Clarence 
was  left  in  possession  of  the  study.  He  locked 


234  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

the  door  and  began  to  ransack  his  father's 
desk.  At  length  he  succeeded  in  his  quest. 

Benjamin  Bolton  was  sitting  in  the  public 
room  of  the  hotel  an  hour  later  smoking  a 
cigar,  and  from  time  to  time  looking  towards 
the  door.  Presently  Clarence  entered,  and 
went  up  to  him. 

"  Have  you  got  it  ?"  asked  Bolton,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Clarence. 

He  took  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  vest 
pocket  and  handed  it  to  Bolton. 

It  read  thus :  "  Ernest  Ray,  Oak  Forks, 
Iowa." 

"  How  did  you  get  it  ?"  asked  Bolton. 

"  I  found  a  letter  in  pa's  desk  from  an  old 
man  named  Peter  Brant,  asking  pa  for  some 
money  for  the  boy,  who  was  living  with 
him." 

"  When  was  that  letter  written  ?" 

"  About  two  years  ago." 

"  Thank  you.  This  gives  me  a  clue.  Come 
out  of  doors  and  I  will  give  you  what  I  prom 
ised.  It  isn't  best  that  any  one  should  think 
we  had  dealings  together." 

Five  minutes   later   Clarence    started   for 


BOUGHT  OFF.  235 

home,  happy  in  the  possession  of  a  five-dollar 
bill. 

"  I  never  paid  any  money  more  cheerfully 
in  my  life,"  mused  Bolton.  "  Now  I  must  find 
the  boy 1" 


236       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    TOWN   OF    OREYILLE. 

WHEN  Ernest  and  Luke  Eobbins  started 
for  California  they  had  no  very  defi 
nite  plans  as  to  the  future.  But  they  found 
among  their  fellow-passengers  a  man  who  was 
just  returning  from  the  East,  where  he  had 
been  to  visit  his  family.  He  was  a  practical 
and  successful  miner,  and  was  by  no  means 
reluctant  to  speak  of  his  success. 

"  When  I  landed  in  Frisco,"  he  said,  "  two 
years  ago,  I  had  just  forty  dollars  left  after 
paying  the  expenses  of  my  trip.  I  couldn't 
find  anything  to  do  in  the  city,  so  I  set  out  for 
the  mines." 

"  Where  did  you  go  ?"  asked  Luke,  becom 
ing  interested. 

"  To  Oreville.  At  least,  that's  what  they 
call  it  now.  Then  it  didn't  have  a  name." 

"  I  hope  you  prospered,"  said  Ernest. 


THE  TOWN  OF  OREVILLE.  237 

"  Well,  not  just  at  first,  but  luck  came  after 
a  while.  When  I  reached  the  mines  I  was 
dead  broke,  and  went  to  work  for  somebody 
else.  After  a  while  I  staked  out  a  claim  for 
myself.  Well,  I  won't  go  into  particulars, 
but  I've  got  six  thousand  dollars  salted  down 
with  a  trust  company  in  Frisco,  and  I've 
got  a  few  hundred  dollars  about  my  clothes 
besides." 

"  That's  the  place  for  us,  Ernest,"  said  Luke. 

"  So  I  think,"  answered  Ernest. 

"Do  you  want  to  go  to  the  mines?"  asked 
the  miner. 

"  Yes ;  we  have  our  fortunes  to  make,  and 
are  willing  to  work." 

"  Then  go  out  to  Oreville  with  me.  Have 
you  got  any  money  ?" 

"  AVe  have  enough  to  get  there,  and  perhaps 
a  little  over." 

"  That  will  do.  I'll  set  you  to  work  on  one 
of  my  claims.  We  will  share  and  share  alike. 
How  will  that  suit  you  ?" 

"  It  seems  fair.  Do  you  think  we  can  make 
enough  to  live  upon  ?" 

"  That  depends  partly  on  yourselves  and 


238  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

partly  upon  luck.  Luck  has  something  to  do 
with  it." 

"  At  any  rate,  we  are  willing  to  work,"  said 
Ernest. 

"  Then  I'm  your  friend,  and  will  help  you," 
said  the  miner  heartily.  "  Tom  Ash  ton  never 
goes  back  on  his  friends." 

This  was  very  encouraging.  Luke  and  Er 
nest  were  not  dead  broke,  but  were  near  it. 
They  had  less  than  forty  dollars  between  them, 
and  they  had  already  found  out  that  living 
was  high  in  California.  They  remained  but  a 
day  in  San  Francisco,  and  then  started  for 
Oreville  with  Mr.  Ash  ton. 

The  two  friends  knew  nothing  of  mining, 
but  as  practised  in  those  early  days  it  took  very 
little  time  to  learn.  They  found  that  their  new 
friend  was  a  man  of  consideration  at  Oreville. 
He  owned  several  claims,  and  had  no  difficulty 
in  finding  them  employment.  They  set  to 
work  at  once,  for  they  were  almost  penniless. 

It  may  be  easily  supposed  that  the  miners 
were  not  fastidious  about  living.  The  cabins 
or  huts  which  they  occupied  were  primitive  to 
the  last  degree.  Generally  they  did  their  own 


THE  TOWN  OF  OREVILLE.  239 

cooking,  such  as  it  was.  Three  of  these  cabins 
Tom  Ashton  owned,  and  one  was  assigned  to 
the  use  of  Ernest  and  his  friend. 

For  years,  Ernest,  with  his  old  friend  and 
supposed  uncle,  Peter  Brant,  had  lived  in  a 
cabin  at  Oak  Forks,  but  it  was  superior  to 
their  new  residence.  Yet  his  former  expe 
rience  enabled  him  the  better  to  accommodate 
himself  to  the  way  of  living  at  Oreville. 

For  a  month  the  two  friends  worked  steadily 
at  their  claim,  which  Ashton  had  finally  given 
them.  They  made  something,  but  not  much. 
In  fact,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  they  made 
expenses. 

"  It  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  make  our 
pile,  Ernest,"  said  Luke  one  evening,  as  he  sat 
in  front  of  his  cabin  smoking. 

"  Yes,  Luke,  things  don't  look  very  promis 
ing,"  replied  Ernest,  gravely. 

"  If  it  weren't  for  my  pipe  I  should  feel 
blue.  Smoking  cheers  me  up." 

"  That  is  where  you  have  the  advantage  of 
me,  Luke." 

"  You  have  the  same  chance  that  I  have.  I 
have  an  extra  pipe.  Won't  you  take  a  smoke?" 


240  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Ernest  shook  his  head. 

"  I  think  I'm  better  off  without  it." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,  lad.  I  remember 
my  poor  father  warned  me  against  smoking. 
The  question  is,  how  long  we'd  better  keep  at 
it." 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  Luke  ?" 

"Well,  no;  not  here." 

"And  we  haven't  money  enough  to  get 
away." 

Just  then  a  tall  man  with  reddish  hair  strode 
across  the  field  to  their  cabin. 

"  Good  evening,  neighbors,"  he  said.  "  How 
are  you  making  out?" 

"  Not  over-well,"  answered  Luke. 

"  There's  a  difference  in  claims.  You've 
got  a  poor  one." 

"  Probably  you  are  right." 

"  There's  been  considerable  gold  dust  gath 
ered  in  Oreville  within  six  months.  I  have 
been  one  of  the  lucky  ones." 

"  Indeed!     I  am  glad  of  it." 

"  Yes  ;  I  found  a  nugget  two  months  since 
that  I  sold  for  two  thousand  dollars.  I  have 
made  five  thousand  within  a  year." 


THE  TOWN  OF  OEEVILLE.  241 

"  You've  been  in  luck.  I  wish  the  boy  and 
I  could  be  as  successful." 

"  The  claim  is  not  good  enough  to  support 
two.  Why  not  let  the  boy  find  something 
else  ?" 

"  You  wouldn't  have  me  freeze  him  out  ?" 
said  Luke,  in  a  tone  of  displeasure. 

"  No,  but  suppose  I  find  something  for  him 
to  do  ?  What  then  ?" 

"  That's  a  different  matter.  Have  you  an 
extra  claim  ?" 

"  Yes ;  but  that  isn't  what  I  offer  him.  I 
have  a  plan  in  which  he  can  help  me." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  All  our  supplies  come  from  Sacramento. 
What  we  need  is  a  retail  store  in  Oreville — a 
general  store  for  the  sale  of  almost  everything 
that  miners  need." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  plan  to  open  one," 
said  Luke,  approvingly. 

"  Now,  you  must  know  that  I  am  an  old 
storekeeper.  I  had  for  years  a  store  about 
twenty  miles  from  Boston.  I  succeeded  fairly 
with  it,  but  my  health  gave  out.  The  doctor 
told  me  I  must  not  be  so  confined — that  I 

16 


242  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

needed  out-of-door  exercise.  So  I  came  out 
here  and  got  it.  AYell,  the  advice  proved 
good.  I  am  strong  and  robust,  and  I  feel  en 
terprising.  Now,  what  I  propose  is  this :  I 
will  open  a  store,  and  put  the  boy  in  charge 
under  me." 

"  I  should  like  it,"  said  Ernest,  eagerly. 

"  You  know  what  we  pay  for  supplies. 
There's  at  least  a  hundred  per  cent,  made, 
and  no  one  objects  to  the  prices.  Why 
shouldn't  we  make  it  as  well  as  the  Sacra 
mento  storekeepers  ?" 

"  True  !"  said  Luke. 

"I  don't  ask  you  to  work  for  me,  my  friend, 
for  I  don't  think  it  would  suit  you." 

"It  wouldn't.  At  home — that's  in  Oak 
Forks,  Iowa — I  was  a  hunter.  I  was  always 
in  the  open  air.  The  sort  of  life  we  live  here 
suits  me,  though  I  haven't  made  much  money 
as  yet." 

"  The  boy,  I  think,  would  do.  He  looks 
like  a  hustler.  I  need  only  look  at  his  face  to 
know  that  he'd  be  honest  and  faithful.  What 
is  your  name,  boy  ?" 

"  Ernest  Ray." 


THE  TOWN  OF  OKEVILLE.  243 

"  That's  a  good  name.  You'll  only  have  to 
live  up  to  it — to  the  first  part  of  it,  I  mean. 
Then  you  accept  my  offer  ?" 

"  You  haven't  made  any,"  said  Ernest, 
smiling. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  about  wages.  Well,  I 
don't  offer  any  stated  wages.  I  will  give  you 
one-third  profits,  and  then  your  pay  will  de 
pend  on  your  success.  The  fact  is,  you  are  to 
keep  the  store." 

Ernest  looked  an  inquiry. 

"One  person  can  attend  to  it  by  day.  I 
will  come  in  the  evening,  and  take  a  gen 
eral  look  after  things.  Just  at  first  I'll 
stay  with  you  till  you've  got  the  hang  of 
things.  But  during  the  day  I  shall  be  look 
ing  after  my  claims.  Do  you  know  how  to 
keep  books  ?" 

"  I  understand  single  entry  bookkeeping." 

"  That  will  be  all  you  will  require." 

"  How  soon  shall  you  start?"  asked  Ernest, 
who  began  to  feel  very  much  interested. 

"  I  will  go  to  Sacramento  to-morrow,  now 
that  we  have  come  to  terms.  You  know  that 
frame  building  near  Ashton's  cabin  ?" 


244  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  was  originally  used 
for,  but  it  is  empty  and  I  can  secure  it  for  our 
store.  It  isn't  large,  but  it  will  hold  all  we 
need.  I  can  get  new  supplies  as  we  need 
them." 

"  Yes,  that  will  do." 

"  You  haven't  said  how  you  like  my  offer." 

"  Of  one-third  profits?  I  like  it  better  than 
if  you  paid  me  wages.  I  will  make  it  amount 
to  a  good  deal." 

"That  will  suit  me.  I  don't  care  how  much 
you  make  out  of  it,  for  I  shall  make  twice  as 
much." 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  think  of  me?" 

"  I've  watched  you  ever  since  you  came.  I 
can  judge  of  any  one,  boy  or  man,  if  I  have 
time  enough  to  take  stock  of  him.  I  saw  that 
you  were  just  the  man  for  me." 

"  Boy,"  suggested  Ernest,  smiling. 

"Oh,  well,  I'll  make  a  man  of  you.  By  the 
way,  an  idea  has  just  occurred  to  me.  You'd 
better  go  to  Sacramento  with  me  to-morrow." 

"I  should  like  to  do  it,"  said  Ernest, 
brightening  up. 


THE  TOWN  OF  OREVILLE.  245 

"  Then  you  can  notice  where  I  buy  my  sup 
plies.    You  may  need  to  go  alone  sometimes." 
"  At  what  time  will  we  start?" 
"  The  stage  leaves  at  seven  o'clock." 
"  I  will  be  ready." 


246       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

AN    OLD    ACQUAINTANCE    TUKNS    UP. 

THE  journey  to  Sacramento  was  made,  the 
goods  selected,  and  in  less  than  a  week 
the  new  store  was  stocked.  In  the  arrange 
ment  of  goods  Ernest  took  a  zealous  part.  He 
had  never  served  in  a  store,  yet  it  seemed  to 
come  natural  to  him,  and  he  felt  more  interest 
in  it  than  in  the  work  of  mining. 

After  the  store  was  in  full  working  order 
Horace  Ames  left  Ernest  as  sole  manager, 
coming  in  only  in  the  evening  to  look  at  the 
books,  for  Ernest,  as  far  as  possible,  kept  a 
record  of  every  sale. 

Storekeeping  in  those  days  and  in  that 
country  was  unusually  profitable.  Ernest 
made  a  little  comparison  between  the  cost  of 
goods  and  the  selling  price,  and  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  the  average  profits  were  a 
hundred  per  cent.  And  still  the  miners  were 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP.  247 

able  to  buy  goods  cheaper  than  when  they 
sent  to  Sacramento  for  them. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  week  Ernest  figured 
up  the  sales  and  found  they  aggregated  two 
hundred  dollars.  His  share  of  the  profits 
amounted  to  a  little  over  thirty  dollars. 

This  was  encouraging,  being  three  times  as 
much  as  he  had  ever  realized  in  the  same 
length  of  time  from  mining. 

There  was  one  embarrassment.  There  was 
no  bank  in  the  place  where  money  could  be 
deposited,  and  of  course  the  chance  of  loss  by 
robbery  was  much  increased.  However,  his 
partner  purchased  a  small  safe,  and  this  af 
forded  some  security. 

One  day  a  man  entered  the  store,  and  pur 
chased  a  pipe  and  tobacco.  He  was  a  stranger 
to  Ernest,  but  there  was  something  familiar 
in  his  look,  yet  he  could  not  place  him. 

The  newcomer  looked  about  with  considera 
ble  curiosity. 

"  You  have  quite  a  snug  store  here,"  he  re 
marked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Does  it  belong  to  you  ?" 


248  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  have  an  interest  in  it,  but  it  belongs  to 
Mr.  Ames." 

"  Is  he  here  much  ?" 

"He  usually  comes  in  evenings,  but  he  is 
interested  in  mining." 

"  You  seem  to  have  a  good  trade." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"  You  have  a  good  stock.  You  would  not 
keep  so  many  goods  unless  you  had  a  call  for 
them." 

"  Have  I  ever  seen  you  before  ?"  asked  Er 
nest  abruptly,  for  the  idea  grew  upon  him  that 
he  and  his  new  customer  had  met  somewhere 
under  peculiar  circumstances. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  remember  you," 
answered  the  customer,  shrugging  his  shoul 
ders.  "  I  haven't  been  in  California  long.  I 
suppose  you  were  born  here." 

"  No ;  very  few  of  those  now  living  in  Cali 
fornia  were  born  here.  I  once  lived  in  Iowa. 
Were  you  ever  there  ?" 

"  Never,"  answered  the  customer.  "  I've 
been  in  Missouri,  but  never  in  Iowa." 

"  I  have  never  been  in  that  State.  Are  you 
going  to  stay  here  ?" 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP.  249 

"  I  don't  know.  It  depends  on  whether  I 
can  make  any  money.  I  suppose  you  don't 
want  to  hire  a  clerk  ?" 

"  No." 

Ernest  said  to  himself  that  this  man,  with 
his  shifty  looks  and  suspicious  appearance, 
would  be  about  the  last  man  he  would  think 
of  engaging. 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Ames  would  give  you  a  chance 
to  work  some  of  his  claims,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  will  look  about  me  a  little  before  I  apply 
to  him,"  replied  the  customer. 

"  Did  you  come  here  alone  ?"  he  asked  after 
a  pause. 

"  No.  A  friend  came  with  me — Luke  Rob- 
bins." 

The  stranger  started  a  little  when  Ernest 
pronounced  this  name,  so  that  young  Kay  was 
led  to  inquire,  "  Do  you  know  Luke  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know  him  ?  Is  he  a  young 
man  ?" 

"  No ;  he  is  probably  about  your  age." 

"  I  suppose  he  came  with  you  from  Ne 
braska?" 

"  Iowa." 


250  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Iowa.  He  isn't  in  the  store,  is 
he?" 

"  He  is  working  for  Mr.  Ashton  on  one  of 
his  claims." 

At  this  point  a  new  customer  came  in,  and 
the  visitor,  after  a  brief  delay,  left  the  store. 

When  Ernest  had  waited  upon  the  new  cus 
tomer  he  look  for  the  first  visitor,  but  missed 
him. 

"  I  wonder  who  he  was,"  he  reflected,  puz 
zled.  "  I  am  sure  that  I  have  seen  him  before." 

But  think  as  he  might,  he  could  not  trace 
him. 

Yet  with  this  man  he  had  had  a  very  ex 
citing  experience  in  Oak  Forks,  for  it  was  no 
other  than  Tom  Burns,  the  tramp  who  had 
entered  his  cabin  during  the  night  and  robbed 
him,  and  later  had  attacked  him  when  digging 
for  Peter's  hidden  treasure.  It  had  been  only 
a  few  months  since  they  had  met,  but  Tom 
Burns,  during  that  time,  had  grown  a  thick 
beard,  which  had  help  to  disguise  him. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  explain  how  Burns 
had  found  his  way  out  to  Oreville.  It  was  his 
business  to  tramp  about  the  country,  and  it 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP.  251 

had  struck  him  that  in  the  land  of  gold  he 
would  have  a  chance  to  line  his  pockets  with 
treasure  which  did  not  belong  to  him.  So 
fortune  had  directed  his  steps  to  Oreville. 

When  he  entered  the  store  in  which  Ernest 
was  employed,  he  immediately,  and  in  some 
surprise,  recognized  the  boy  of  Oak  Forks. 
He  was  glad  to  find  that  Ernest  did  not  rec 
ognize  him,  and  he  immediately  began  to 
consider  in  what  way  he  could  turn  the  cir 
cumstance  to  his  own  advantage. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  boy  sleeps  there/'  he  said 
to  himself.  "  If  so,  I  will  make  him  a  visit  to 
night.  Probably  the  money  he  has  taken  in 
during  the  day  will  be  in  some  drawer  where 
I  can  get  hold  of  it." 

As  he  was  leaving  the  store  in  the  stealthy 
way  habitual  to  him  he  met  a  man  walking 
towards  the  place  with  a  long  and  careless 
stride. 

He  started  nervously,  for  this  man  was  one 
whom  he  dreaded,  and  had  reason  to  fear. 

It  was  Luke  Bobbins,  who,  tired  with  work 
ing  the  claim,  was  going  to  the  store  to  re 
plenish  his  stock  of  tobacco. 


252       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Tom  Burns  pulled  his  soft  hat  down  over 
his  eyes  and  pushed  swiftly  on. 

Luke  Bobbins  halted  a  moment  and  looked 
at  him.  As  in  Ernest's  case,  he  seemed  to  see 
something  familiar  in  the  appearance  of  the 
tramp.  He  realized,  at  all  events,  that  he  was 
a  stranger  in  Oreville,  for  he  knew  every  one 
in  the  mining  settlement. 

"  Who  are  you,  stranger  ?  Have  I  seen  you 
before?"  asked  Luke,  hailing  him. 

Tom  Burns  did  not  dare  to  reply,  for  he 
feared  that  Luke  might  prove  to  have  a  better 
memory  than  Ernest.  So  he  was  passing  on 
without  a  response,  when  Luke,  who  consid 
ered  his  conduct  suspicious,  demanded,  in  a 
peremptory  tone,  "  Who  are  you  ?  Do  you 
live  here?" 

Tom  Burns  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
said,  disguising  his  voice,  "  Me  no  understand 
English,  boss." 

"  What  countryman  are  you  ?"  asked  Luke, 
suspiciously. 

"  Italian,"  answered  Tom. 

"  Humph  !  You  are  the  first  Italian  I  have 
seen  in  Oreville." 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP.  253 

"  Si,  signer,"  answered  Tom,  and  this  com 
prised  all  the  Italian  he  knew. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  you  will  find  any  in 
ducement  to  stay." 

"  Si,  signor,"  replied  Burns,  meekly. 

Without  another  word  Luke  entered  the 
store. 

"  Ernest,"  he  said,  "  I  am  out  of  tobacco  and 
must  have  a  smoke.  Give  me  half  a  pound." 

"  All  right,  Luke." 

"I  ran  across  an  Italian  just  outside.  He 
seemed  to  be  leaving  the  store." 

"  An  Italian  ?"  queried  Ernest,  his  tone  be 
traying  surprise. 

"  Yes.     Wasn't  he  in  here  ?" 

"  There  was  a  man  in  here — a  stranger,  but 
I  don't  think  he  was  an  Italian." 

"  This  man  answered  me  in  some  Italian 
gibberish.  He  said  he  couldn't  understand 
English." 

"  What  was  his  appearance  ?" 

Luke  described  him. 

"  It's  the  same  man  that  was  in  here  just 
now,  but  he  could  speak  English  as  well  as 
you  or  I." 


254       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Did  you  have  some  conversation  with 
him  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  looked  familiar  to  me  and  I 
asked  him  who  he  was.  He  said  he  had  come 
from  Missouri.  He  was  in  search  of  work." 

"  You  say  he  understood  and  spoke  Eng 
lish?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  wonder  what  could  be  his  game." 

"Don't  he  look  familiar  to  you?" 

"Yes;  there  was  something  familiar  about 
his  appearance,  but  I  couldn't  place  him." 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  couldn't  employ  him 
in  the  store.  I  told  him  Mr.  Ames  might  give 
him  a  chance  at  mining." 

"Well?" 

"  He  said  he  would  look  round  a  little  be 
fore  deciding." 

"  Did  he  buy  anything  ?" 

"  Yes,  tobacco." 

"  Did  you  mention  my  name  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  he  looked  uneasy." 

"  Ernest,"  said  Luke  Bobbins,  with  a  sud 
den  inspiration,  "  I  know  the  man." 

"  Who  is  it  ?" 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  TURNS  UP.  255 

"  Don't  you  recall  any  man  at  Oak  Forks 
with  whom  you  had  trouble  ?" 

"  Tom  Burns  ?" 

"Yes.     That's  the  man." 

"  Why  didn't  we  recognize  him  then  ?" 

"  Because  he  has  grown  a  full  beard." 

"  That's  so,  Luke.  I  understand  now  why 
he  looked  so  familiar.  I  am  sorry  to  see  him 
here." 

"  He'd  better  not  undertake  any  of  his  ras 
calities  or  he  will  find  himself  in  hot  water." 


256       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TOM    BURNS   MAKES   A   CALL. 

TT^HEN  Burns  left  the  store  he  walked  to 
V  V  the  outskirts  of  the  mining  settlement, 
not  wishing  to  attract  attention.  He  wished 
especially  to  avoid  encountering  Luke  Rob- 
bins,  with  the  strength  of  whose  arm  he  was 
disagreeably  familiar. 

He  proposed  to  keep  out  of  sight  until  night, 
and  then  make  a  visit  to  the  store.  It  would 
go  hard  with  him  if  he  did  not  make  a  raise 
there  either  in  the  shape  of  money  or  articles 
of  value. 

He  came  to  a  cabin  standing  by  itself,  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  homes  of  the 
other  miners.  Sitting  in  front  of  it  was  a  man 
with  grizzled  beard  whose  appearance  indi 
cated  advanced  age.  There  were  lines  upon  his 
face  that  betrayed  ill  health. 

"  I  wonder  if  anything  can  be  got  out  of 
him/'  thought  Tom  Burns.  "  I'll  see." 


TOM  BUENS  MAKES  A  CALL.  257 

"  Good  clay,  sir,"  he  said  affably. 

The  old  man  looked  up. 

"  Good  day,"  he  replied.    "  Who  are  you  ?" 

"  I'm  an  unfortunate  man,  in  search  of  em 
ployment." 

"  When  people  are  unfortunate  there  is  gen 
erally  a  reason  for  it.  Are  you  intemperate  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Burns,  as  if  horror- 
stricken.  "  I  hate  the  taste  of  liquor." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  I  belong  to  three  temperance  societies,"  con 
tinued  Tom,  by  way  of  deepening  the  favora 
ble  impression  he  thought  he  had  made. 

"  And  still  you  are  poor?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Burns.  "  Once  I  was 
prosperous,  but  I  was  ruined  by  signing  notes 
for  an  unprincipled  man  who  took  advantage 
of  my  friendship.  Do  you  think  I  can  find 
work  here  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Probably  you  can  get  a 
chance  to  work  on  one  of  Mr.  Ames'  claims." 

"  Is  it  Mr.  Ames  who  owns  the  store?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  called  there  to  buy  some  tobacco.  Is  the 
boy  there  his  son  ?" 

17 


258       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  No ;  he  is  a  recent  arrival  in  Oreville. 
He  is  a  very  smart  boy." 

"  Is  he  ?  Mr.  Ames  trusts  him,  I  sup 
pose?" 

"Yes.     Why  shouldn't  he?" 

"  I — I  would  rather  not  answer  that  ques 
tion." 

"  Have  you  ever  met  the  hoy  hefore  ?  Do 
you  know  him  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  met  him  at  the  East,"  answered 
Burns. 

"  Since  you  have  said  so  much,  you  must 
say  more.  I  am  a  cousin  of  Mr.  Ames,  and 
if  you  know  anything  unfavorable  of  the  boy 
it  is  your  duty  to  tell  me." 

"I  have  nothing  against  the  boy,  and  would 
prefer  not  to  speak." 

"  I  insist  upon  your  doing  it." 

"  It  is  only  this.  When  I  knew  him  he 
was  employed  in  a  store.  He  was  trusted,  as 
he  appears  to  be  here.  One  night  the  store 
was  robbed,  that  is  some  money  disappeared, 
and  the  boy  claimed  it  was  broken  into  by 
thieves,  who  took  the  money,  whereas  he  took 
it  himself." 


TOM  BURNS  MAKES  A  CALL.  259 

"  That  seems  bad.  Was  it  proved  that  he 
took  the  money  ?" 

"  Yes.  That's  why  he  was  compelled  to 
leave  the  place.  That  is  why  he  is  now  in 
Oreville." 

"  Did  you  come  here  to  expose  him?" 

"  No ;  I  didn't  know  he  was  here.  I  was 
very  much  taken  by  surprise  when  I  saw  him 
in  the  store." 

u  This  is  important,  if  true.  Mr.  Ames 
ought  to  be  informed." 

"  Don't  tell  him  while  I  am  here.  The  boy 
is  very  revengeful,  and  he  might  try  to  do  me 
an  injury." 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  a  boy  ?" 

"I  am  a  man  of  peace.  I  don't  want  to  get 
into  any  difficulty." 

"  I  suppose  you  wonder  that  I  am  sitting 
here  while  others  are  at  work." 

"  Well,  it  did  cross  my  mind." 

"  My  spine  is  affected.  I  look  well,  but  I 
cannot  walk.  I  hope  to  be  better  after  a 
while,  but  at  present  I  am  comparatively 
helpless." 

"Can't  I  help  you?" 


260       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  You  may  go  into  the  cabin,  and  bring  me 
a  bottle  of  medicine  which  you  will  find  in  the 
cupboard." 

Burns  entered  the  cabin  gladly.  He  thought 
that  he  might  find  something  worth  taking. 

Oil  the  wall,  hanging  from  a  nail,  was  a 
goJd  watch.  It  was  too  good  a  chance  to  be 
lost.  It  might  or  it  might  not  be  valuable, 
"but  at  any  rate  it  was  worth  something. 

So,  while  securing  the  bottle,  Burns  slyly 
possessed  himself  of  the  watch,  which  he 
slipped  into  his  inside  breast  pocket. 

"  Here  is  the  bottle,  sir,"  he  said,  meekly. 

"  Thank  you.  Now  bring  a  spoon,  which 
you  will  find  on  the  table." 

Burns  did  so. 

"  Now  pour  out  a  teaspoon ful,  which  I  will 
take." 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  of  service  to  you.  Don't 
you  want  a  kind  attendant,  while  you  are  sick, 
to  take  care  of  you  ?" 

"  There  would  not  be  enough  for  you  to  do. 
I  have  a  son  at  work  in  the  mines  who  is  here 
morning  and  night,  and  he  gives  me  all  the 
care  I  require." 


TOM  BURNS  MAKES  A  CALL.  261 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  thought  Burns. 
"  The  son  may  be  dangerous." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  bid  you  good-by.  I  will 
pray  for  your  recovery." 

"  Thank  you.  The  prayers  of  the  righteous 
avail  much.  Are  you  righteous?" 

"  It  isn't  for  me  to  say,  sir.  I  don't  want 
to  boast." 

"  That  is  creditable  to  you."  By  the  way, 
are  you  hungry  ?" 

"  I  haven't  broken  my  fast  since  morning." 

"  You  will  find  some  cold  meat  and  a  loaf 
of  bread  in  the  cupboard.  It  is  plain,  but  if 
you  are  hungry  you  will  enjoy  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  will  accept  your  kind 
invitation." 

Tom  Burns  was  really  hungry,  and  he  did 
justice  to  the  food  offered  him. 

When  his  lunch  was  over  he  came  outside. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "for  your  kindness. 
I  am  sure  you  will  be  rewarded." 

"  I  don't  want  any  reward.  Out  here  we 
are  always  glad  to  give  a  meal  of  victuals  to 
a  stranger  who  needs  it.  Are  you  going  to 
stay  long  in  Oreville?" 


262  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  If  I  can  get  anything  to  do  I  may.  You 
see  I  am  a  poor  man,  and  stand  in  pressing 
need  of  employment." 

"  Keep  up  your  courage !  Something  will 
turn  up  for  you.  I  will  ask  my  son  if  he 
cannot  find  something  for  you  to  do." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  will  bid  you  good-by, 
with  thanks  for  your  kindness." 

"  If  you  are  *not  pressed  for  time,  I  will  send 
you  on  an  errand." 

"  All  right,  sir.  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  of 
service  to  you." 

"  Here  is  a  Mexican  dollar.  You  may  go 
to  the  store  and  bring  me  a  dozen  eggs.  If 
there  is  any  change  you  may  keep  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"A  dollar  in!"  thought  Burns,  as  he  turned 
away  from  the  cabin.  "  I  think  I  can  turn  it 
to  a  better  use  than  spending  it  in  eggs.  That 
was  a  profitable  call.  I  made  a  gold  watch 
and  a  dollar  by  it.  The  old  man  can't  pur 
sue  me,  that's  one  comfort,  thanks  to  his 
spinal  complaint." 

"That  is  a  very  clever  fellow,"  reflected  the 
old  man  when  Burns  had  started  on  his  er- 


TOM  BURNS  MAKES  A  CALL.  263 

rand.  "A  bit  too  religious  to  suit  my  taste. 
Still  he  seemed  grateful  for  the  little  I  did  for 
him.  If  he  had  a  little  more  push  and  get- 
up-and-get  about  him  he  would  succeed  better. 
Why,  he  isn't  more  than  forty,  and  he  con 
fesses  himself  a  failure.  Why,  at  forty  I 
considered  myself  a  young  man,  and  was 
full  of  dash  and  enterprise.  Now  I  am  sixty 
and  tied  to  my  seat  by  this  spinal  trouble. 
However,  I've  got  something  laid  by,  and, 
old  as  I  am,  I  feel  independent,  as  far  as 
money  goes." 

Half  an  hour — an  hour — passed,  and  still 
the  old  man  found  himself  alone.  His  mes 
senger  had  not  come  back. 

But  there  came  up  the  path  a  tall,  muscular 
figure,  who  greeted  the  old  man  in  a  bluff,  off 
hand  way. 

"How  are  you,  Luke?"  said  the  old  man. 
"  I  was  feeling  lonely.  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Have  you  been  alone  since  morning  ?" 

"  Not  quite  all  the  time.  I  had  quite  a  long 
call  from  a  stranger." 

44  A  stranger  !"  repeated  Luke,  suspiciously. 

"  What  was  his  appearance  ?" 


264       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

The  old  man  described  Burns,  and  Luke 
knew  him  at  once. 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?" 

"  That  reminds  me — he  said  he  knew  the 
boy  whom  Horace  has  put  in  the  store — 
young  Kay." 

"Did  he?" 

"  Yes,  and  he  doesn't  speak  well  of  him." 

"  What  does  he  say  about  him  ?" 

"  I  don't  like  to  tell  you,  Luke,  for  I  be 
lieve  he  is  a  protege  of  yours." 

"  Don't  mind  that.  If  there  is  anything  to 
be  said  unfavorable  of  Ernest  I  ought  to  know 
it." 

"  He  says  the  boy  robbed  a  store  in  which 
he  was  employed,  and  then  pretended  it  was 
entered  by  thieves.  It  was  on  that  account, 
he  says,  that  the  boy  was  compelled  to  leave 
the  town  where  he  lived  and  come  to  Califor 


nia." 


"  Really,  that  is  very  interesting.  To  my 
own  personal  knowledge  the  boy  was  never 
before  employed  in  a  store,  and  he  came  out 
to  California  with  me." 

"  Then  what  could  the  man  mean  ?" 


TOM  BURNS  MAKES  A  CALL.  265 

"  I  can't  say.  I  can  only  tell  you  that  he  is 
a  professional  thief." 

"  Look  quick,  Luke,  and  see  if  my  gold 
watch  is  hanging  on  a  nail  near  the  cupboard." 

"  No,  it  is  not  there." 

"  Then  the  rascal  must  have  stolen  it.  I 
gavehim,  besides,  a  Mexican  dollar  to  buy  some 
eggs  at  the  store." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  ever  see  it  again, 
unless  I  catch  the  thief,  as  I  may  to-night/' 


266       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEE. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE. 

IF  Tom  Burns  had  been  more  prudent  fre 
would  have  made  good  his  escape  with 
the  money  and  gold  watch  he  had  already  se 
cured.  But  he  was  too  greedy  for  gain. 

He  pictured  to  himself  the  store  with  its 
goodly  stock  of  money  taken  in  during  the 
day,  and  he  felt  an  irresistible  craving  for  it. 
There  might  be  one  or  two  hundred  dollars, 
and  no  one  in  charge  but  a  boy  whom  he  could 
easily  overpower. 

Apart  from  the  pecuniary  gain  he  felt  that 
he  should  enjoy  getting  the  best  of  Ernest, 
who  had  already  foiled  him  at  Oak  Forks. 

"  This  time  he  will  come  out  second  best," 
chuckled  Burns  to  himself. 

Then  he  laughed  when  he  remembered  how 
his  appearance  had  puzzled  Ernest. 

"  It  was  a  good  idea,  growin'  a  beard,"  he 


A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE.  267 

said  to  himself.  "  Seems  to  have  disguised  me 
pretty  well.  The  boy  thought  he  had  seen  me 
before,  but  he  couldn't  make  out  where.  The 
next  time  he'll  know  me,  I  reckon. 

"  I  must  keep  out  of  the  way  till  night/'  he 
said  to  himself.  "  It  won't  do  for  me  to  be 
seen  prowlin'  round  the  settlement." 

He  retired  a  mile  or  two  among  the  hills, 
and  waited  impatiently  for  night  to  come. 

"  It  is  lucky  that  the  old  man  gave  me  a 
meal,"  he  reflected,  "otherwise  I  should  be 
about  starved.  I  wonder  if  that  watch  is  worth 
much/' 

He  examined  the  watch,  and  decided  that  its 
value  was  probably  not  far  from  a  hundred  dol 
lars.  In  fact  the  old  man  had  bought  it  in  St. 
Louis,  and  had  selected  a  high-priced  article. 

It  did  occur  to  Burns  that  perhaps  he  had 
better  remain  satisfied  with  what  he  had  got, 
for  the  watch  would  probably  bring  him  fifty 
dollars  at  a  sacrifice  sale ;  but  the  temptation 
to  stay  was  too  strong. 

"  It  would  be  a  sin  to  give  up  such  a  fine 
chance/'  he  reflected.  "  There's  next  to  no 
risk,  and  I  may  get  two  hundred  dollars." 


268  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Then  he  began  to  consider  what  he  would 
do  in  that  case.  He  decided  that  he  would  go 
to  San  Francisco,  and  see  what  pickings  he 
could  find  there. 

He  had  already  found  out  that  mining  men 
and  others  in  the  far  West  were  more  careless 
about  their  money  than  those  in  the  East, 
probably  because  money  came  easier. 

"  I  did  well  when  I  came  out  here,"  he  said 
to  himself  in  a  tone  of  congratulation.  "  I'll 
make  hay  while  the  sun  shines." 

Meanwhile,  though  he  did  not  know  it,  his 
visit  was  expected,  and  preparations  were  be 
ing  made  to  receive  him. 

After  supper  Luke  Robbins  came  to  the 
store,  and  held  a  conference  with  Ernest. 

"  I  am  going  to  pass  the  night  with  you, 
lad,"  he  said. 

"  I  wish  you  would,  Luke." 

"  I  want  to  help  you  do  the  honors  to  my 
old  friend  Burns." 

"  Perhaps  he  won't  call." 

"  If  he  knows  what's  best  for  himself  he 
won't,  but  he  will  be  like  the  foolish  moth,  and 
won't  be  contented  till  he  has  singed  his  wings. 


A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE.  269 

I  will  look  about  me  and  see  where  to  bestow 
myself  for  the  night." 

Ernest  occupied  a  bed  in  the  rear  of  the 
store,  just  behind  one  of  the  counters.  It  was 
near  a  window  in  the  rear  of  the  building. 

"  I'll  take  that  bed,  Ernest,  and  you  can  find 
another  place." 

"  Shall  I  fasten  the  window  ?" 

"  No.  I  am  going  to  make  it  easy  for  my 
friend  Burns  to  get  in.  Whether  he  will  find 
it  as  easy  to  get  out  will  be  another  matter." 

Nothing  was  said  to  the  miners  about  the 
presence  of  a  thief  in  the  settlement.  At  that 
time  there  was  no  toleration  for  thieves.  The 
punishment  visited  upon  them  was  short,  sharp, 
and  decisive.  The  judge  most  in  favor  was 
Judge  Lynch,  and  woe  be  to  the  offender  who 
ventured  to  interfere  with  the  rights  of  prop 
erty. 

Had  Luke  breathed  a  word  about  Burns, 
half  a  dozen  miners  would  have  volunteered 
to  stand  guard,  and  would  thus  have  interfered 
with  Tom  Burns'  visit. 

"  I  want  to  keep  all  the  fun  to  myself,  Er 
nest,"  said  Luke.  "  We'll  give  him  a  lesson 


270       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

he  won't  soon  forget.  If  I  told  the  boys,  they'd 
hang  him  up  in  short  order.  I  don't  want  to 
take  the  fellow's  life,  but  I'll  give  him  a  first- 
class  scare." 

It  was  about  ten  minutes  of  twelve  when 
Tom  Burns,  leaving  his  place  of  concealment, 
walked  with  eager  steps  towards  the  mining 
settlement.  The  one  street  was  not  illumi 
nated,  for  Oreville  had  not  got  along  as  far  as 
that.  The  moon  gave  an  indistinct  light,  re 
lieving  the  night  of  a  part  of  its  gloom. 

Burns  looked  from  one  cabin  to  another 
with  a  wistful  glance. 

"  I  suppose  some  of  these  miners  have  got 
a  lot  of  gold  dust  hidden  away  in  their  shan 
ties,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  wish  I  knew 
where  I  could  light  on  some  of  their  treasure. 
If  I  only  knew  which  cabin  to  choose!" 

But  then  it  occurred  to  him  that  every  miner 
was  probably  armed,  and  would  make  it  dan 
gerous  to  any  intruder. 

So  Tom  Burns  kept  on  his  way.  He  was 
troubled  by  no  conscientious  scruples.  He  had 
got  beyond  that  long  ago.  Sometimes  it  did 
occur  to  him  to  wonder  how  it  would  seem  to 


A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE.  271 

settle  down  as  a  man  of  respectability  and  in 
fluence,  taking  a  prominent  part  in  the  affairs 
of  town  and  church. 

"  It  might  have  been,"  he  muttered.  "  My 
father  was  a  man  of  that  sort.  Why  not  I  ? 
If  I  hadn't  gone  wrong  in  my  early  days,  if  I 
had  not  been  tempted  of  the  devil  to  rob  the 
storekeeper  for  whom  I  worked,  and  so  made 
myself  an  outcast  and  a  pariah,  who  knows 
but  I  might  have  been  at  this  moment  Thomas 
Burns,  Esq.,  of  some  municipality,  instead  of 
Tom  Burns  the  tramp.  However,  it  is  foolish 
to  speculate  about  this.  I  am  what  I  am,  and 
there  is  little  chance  of  my  being  anything 
else." 

So  he  dismissed  the  past,  and  recalled  the 
work  he  had  set  for  himself. 

Everything  was  still.  In  the  mining  village 
probably  there  was  not  a  person  awake.  It 
was  like  a  dead  town.  Everything  seemed 
favorable  to  his  designs. 

There  was  the  store.  He  could  see  it  al 
ready.  And  now  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
to  get  in  and  take  the  money,  which  he  had  no 
doubt  was  waiting  ready  to  his  hand. 


272       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Perhaps  he  might  be  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  it  without  waking  the  boy.  He  hoped 
so,  at  any  rate,  for  he  was  not  a  desperate  or 
cruel  man.  He  did  not  wish  to  injure  Ernest 
unless  it  should  be  absolutely  necessary.  If  he 
could  get  along  without  it,  so  much  the  better. 

Arriving  at  his  destination,  he  paused  to  re 
consider. 

He  did  not  expect  to  enter  by  the  front 
door.  He  did  not  as  yet  know  whether  there 
was  any  other.  But  at  any  rate  there  must 
be  a  window  somewhere,  and  he  preferred  to 
get  in  that  way. 

He  walked  around  to  the  rear  of  the  store, 
and  there  he  discovered  the  window.  He  had 
been  afraid  it  might  be  blockaded  with  shelves, 
which  would  make  entrance  difficult,  but  fortu 
nately  this  did  not  appear  to  be  the  case.  He 
stood  at  the  window  and  looked  in. 

The  faint  moonlight  did  not  enable  him  to 
penetrate  the  interior  very  far,  but  he  could 
make  out  something.  There  were  goods  of 
various  kinds  scattered  about,  and  he  could 
just  see  a  recumbent  figure  on  a  bed  near  the 
counter. 


A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE.  273 

"  That's  the  boy,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
wonder  if  he  is  asleep." 

There  did  not  seem  to  be  any  doubt  on  this 
point. 

But  for  the  indistinct  light,  Tom  Burns 
might  have  thought  the  outstretched  figure 
rather  large  for  a  boy.  But  he  only  glanced 
at  it  furtively. 

The  next  thing  to  consider  was  whether  the 
window  was  fastened.  In  that  case  he  would 
have  some  difficulty,  though  for  this  he  was 
prepared,  having  an  instrument  with  which  he 
could  cut  a  pane  of  glass,  and,  thrusting  in  his 
hand,  unfasten  the  catch. 

But  through  some  strange  inadvertence,  ap 
parently,  the  window  was  not  locked,  and 
much  to  his  relief  he  had  no  difficulty  in  lift 
ing  it.  In  this  way  he  made  his  entrance  into 
the  store. 

He  was  as  careful  as  possible,  fearing  lest  he 
might  stumble  over  some  article,  and  by  the 
noise  betray  his  presence. 

What  if  there  was  a  dog  inside?  This 
thought  brought  alarm  to  the  burglar.  In  that 
case  his  visit  would  probably  be  a  failure.  He 

18 


274       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

remembered,  however,  with  a  feeling  of  relief, 
that  he  had  seen  no  dog  about  during  his  visit 
to  the  store. 

Now  that  he  had  passed  through  the  win 
dow,  and  was  fairly  in  the  store,  he  looked 
round  for  the  money-drawer.  He  had  not 
seen  the  safe,  or  probably  he  might  not  have 
entered  the  store  at  all,  for  he  was  not  expert 
in  breaking  open  safes,  and  at  any  rate  it 
would  be  a  matter  of  time  and  difficulty.  So 
he  was  looking  about,  when,  as  he  passed  by 
the  bed,  he  felt  himself  seized  by  the  leg. 
Evidently  the  sleeper  had  awakened  and  dis 
covered  his  presence. 

Burns  got  down  on  his  knees  and  grasped 
the  recumbent  by  the  throat. 

"Lie  still,  or  I'll  choke  you!"  he  said, 
fiercely. 

But  as  he  spoke  he  felt  the  rough  beard  of 
a  man,  and  with  dismay  he  realized  that  he 
had  tackled  a  more  formidable  foe  than  the 
boy  for  whom  he  was  prepared. 

He  then  felt  himself  seized  with  an  iron 
grasp. 

"  I've  got  you,  you  rascally  burglar  !"  were 


"HE    STOOD   AT   THE   WINDOW    AND  LOOKED    IN." 


A  BURGLAR'S  FAILURE.  275 

the  words  lie  heard,  and  gave  himself  up  for 
lost. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked  faintly. 

"  I  am  Luke  Bobbins,  and  I  know  you  of 
old.  You  are  Torn  Burns  1" 


276  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE    ADVERTISEMENT. 

IF  there  was  any  one  of  whom  Tom  Burns 
stood  in  fear  it  was  Luke  Bobbins. 
When  he  found  himself  in  the  grasp  of  his 
dreaded  enemy  he  grew  weak  with  terror. 

It  was  no  longer  a  question  of  successful 
robbery.  It  was  a  matter  of  personal  safety. 

"Well,  what  have  you  to  say  for  yourself?'* 
demanded  Luke,  tightening  his  grasp. 

"  Have  mercy  on  me,  Mr.  Robbins !  Don't 
kill  me !"  ejaculated  Burns,  half  choked. 

"  What  did  you  come  here  for  ?" 

"  I — I  had  no  money,  and " 

"  You  thought  you  could  get  some  here. 
That  is  the  explanation." 

"  Ye-es,"  faltered  Burns. 

"  You  thought  you  would  be  more  than  a 
match  for  the  boy.  Well,  you  have  no  boy 
to  deal  with." 


THE  ADVERTISEMENT.  277 

"  I  know  that  very  well,"  confessed  Burns. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  Oreville  ?" 

"  I  only  came  this  morning." 

"  You  have  improved  your  time,"  said 
Luke,  dryly.  "You  have  stolen  a  gold  watch, 
besides  making  this  attempt  at  robbery." 

Tom  Burns  could  not  deny  it,  though  he 
was  surprised  at  Luke's  knowledge.  He  did 
not  reply. 

"  Hand  over  that  watch  !"  said  Luke,  in  a 
tone  of  authority. 

"  Will  you  let  me  go  if  I  do  ?" 

"  I  will  make  no  conditions  with  you.  Hand 
over  that  watch !" 

Burns  drew  it  from  his  inside  pocket  and 
handed  it  over. 

"  Humph  !  So  far  so  good.  Now  how  about 
that  dollar  you  took  to  buy  eggs  ?" 

"  It  is  the  only  money  I  have,  except  a  few 
pennies.  Please  let  me  keep  it." 

"  If  I  tell  the  miners  what  you  have  done 
you  won't  need  any  more  money,"  said  Luke, 
grimly. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Burns,  trembling. 

"Why  not?"   repeated   Luke.     "Because 


278       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

they  will  hang  you  to  the  nearest  tree.  You 
won't  need  to  trouble  about  money  matters 
after  that." 

"  You  won't  give  me  up,  Mr.  Bobbins," 
pleaded  Burns  in  an  agony  of  terror.  "  I — I 
am  not  fit  to  die.  Besides,  I  am  a  young  man. 
I  am  not  yet  forty.  I  will  turn  over  a  new 
leaf.  I  will,  truly." 

"  It's  high  time  you  did.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  you  earned  an  honest  living." 

"  I  know  it,  Mr.  Bobbins.  I  have  been  a 
bad  man,  but  it  is  not  too  late  to  reform.  If 
you'll  let  me  go  I  will  leave  Oreville  to-night, 
and  I  will  never  trouble  you  again." 

"  It  isn't  me  you  have  troubled.  It  is  the 
boy.  You  robbed  him,  or  tried  to  do  it,  at 
Oak  Forks,  and  now  you  have  turned  up  here." 

"  I  didn't  know  he  was  here.  Truly  I 
didn't." 

"  You  didn't  know  I  was  here,  or  I  think 
you  would  have  given  the  place  a  wide  berth." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  I  did,  and  if 
you'll  only  spare  my  life  I'll  promise  to  re 
form." 

"I  haven't  much  faith  in  your   promises, 


THE  ADVERTISEMENT.  279 

but  I'll  leave  it  to  the  boy.  Ernest,  what  shall 
I  do  with  this  man  ?" 

Ernest  had  come  forward,  and  was  standing 
but  a  few  feet  from  Luke  and  his  captive. 

"  If  he  promises  to  reform,"  said  Ernest, 
"  you'd  better  give  him  another  chance,  Luke." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ought  to,  but  it  is  you 
to  whom  he  has  done  the  most  harm.  If  you 
give  him  over  to  the  miners  we  shall  never  be 
troubled  by  him  again." 

Tom  Burns  turned  pale,  for  he  knew  that 
life  and  death  were  in  the  balance,  and  that 
those  two — Luke  and  the  boy — were  to  decide 
his  fate. 

Ernest  could  not  help  pitying  the  trembling 
wretch.  He  was  naturally  kind  hearted,  and 
at  that  moment  he  felt  that  he  could  forgive 
Burns  all  that  he  had  done. 

"  Since  you  have  left  it  to  me,  Luke,"  he 
said,  "  let  him  go." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  say,  Ernest." 

As  he  spoke  he  released  his  hold,  and  Tom 
Burns  stood  erect.  He  breathed  a  deep  sigh 
of  relief. 

"  May  I  go  ?"  he  asked  submissively. 


280       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Yes." 

Before  leaving  he  turned  to  Ernest. 

"  You  are  a  good-hearted  boy,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  shall  not  forget  that  you  have  saved 
my  life.  If  I  am  ever  able  to  do  anything  for 
you,  I  will  do  it.  You  will  find  that  Tom 
Burns,  bad  as  he  has  been,  knows  how  to  be 
grateful." 

"  I  think  you  mean  what  you  say,"  returned 
Ernest.  "  I  hope  you  will  keep  your  promise 
and  will  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  Is  it  true  that 
you  are  penniless  ?" 

"Not  quite.     This  is  all  I  have." 

Burns  drew  from  his  pocket  a  handful  of 
small  change — less  than  a  dollar  in  all — and 
held  it  out  for  inspection. 

"Then  I  will  help  you  along." 

Ernest  took  from  his  pocket  a  five-dollar 
gold  piece,  and  offered  it  to  the  tramp. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  would  do  for  him," 
said  Luke. 

"  It  is  more  than  I  deserve,"  replied  Burns, 
"but  you  won't  be  sorry  for  your  kindness. 
If  ever  you  see  me  again,  I  shall  be  a  different 
man." 


THE  ADVERTISEMENT.  281 

He  passed  out  of  the  window,  and  they  saw 
him  no  more. 

Luke  and  Ernest  said  very  little  of  their 
night's  adventure,  but  the  gold  watch  and  the 
Mexican  dollar  were  returned  to  the  man  from 
whom  they  had  been  taken. 

Six  months  passed.  Oreville  had  doubled 
its  population,  the  mines  had  yielded  a  large 
sum  in  gold  dust,  and  the  store  presided  over 
by  Ernest  was  considerably  enlarged. 

His  services  had  been  so  satisfactory  that 
Horace  Ames,  whose  time  was  taken  up  else 
where,  had  raised  his  share  of  the  profits  to 
one  half. 

At  the  end  of  six  months,  besides  defraying 
his  expenses,  Ernest  found  himself  possessed 
of  a  thousand  dollars. 

"  Luke,  I  feel  rich,"  said  he,  when  his  faith 
ful  friend  came  round  for  a  chat. 

"  You've  done  better  than  I  have,"  rejoined 
Luke.  "  The  most  I  have  been  able  to  scrape 
together  is  four  hundred  dollars." 

"  I  will  give  you  a  part  of  my  money,  so  that 
we  may  be  even." 

"  No,  you  won't,  Ernest.    What  do  you  take 


282  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

me  for  ?  I  should  be  ashamed  to  touch  any  of 
your  hard  earnings." 

"They  are  not  hard  earnings,  Luke.  Mr. 
Ames  has  been  very  liberal,  and  that  is  why 
I  have  got  so  much.  I  don't  feel  that  I  ought 
to  have  so  much  more  than  you." 

"  Don't  bother  about  me,  lad ;  I  feel  rich 
with  four  hundred  dollars.  I  never  was  worth 
so  much  before,  though  I'm  almost  three  times 
your  age.  And  I  wouldn't  have  that  but  for 
you." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out,  Luke  ?" 

"  Because  I  never  had  any  ambition  till  I 
met  you.  I  never  thought  of  saving  money ; 
as  long  as  I  got  enough  to  eat  I  cared  for  noth 
ing  else.  I  should  have  died  without  enough 
to  bury  me  if  you  had  not  set  me  the  example 
of  putting  something  by  for  a  rainy  day." 

"  I  am  glad  if  I  have  done  you  any  good, 
Luke,  for  you  have  been  a  kind  friend  to  me." 

A.  week  later  Luke  came  into  the  store  hold 
ing  a  letter  in  his  hand. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  for  you,  Ernest,"  he  said. 
"  I  was  passing  the  post-office  just  now  when 
I  was  hailed  by  the  postmaster,  who  asked 


THE  ADVERTISEMENT.  283 

me  if  I  would  take  the  letter  to  you.  I  didn't 
know  that  you  had  any  correspondents." 

"Nor  I,  Luke.  I  think  it  is  the  first  letter 
I  ever  received.  Whom  can  it  be  from  ?" 

"  From  some  one  who  knows  you  are  here. 
It  is  postmarked  St.  Louis." 

"  Well,  I  can  easily  discover  who  wrote  it," 
said  Ernest,  as  he  cut  open  the  envelope  with 
his  penknife. 

He  turned  at  once  to  the  signature,  and  ex 
claimed,  in  great  surprise,  "  Why,  it's  from 
Tom  Burns." 

"The  man  who  tried  to  rob  the  store?" 

"  Yes." 

"  He  has  probably  written  to  ask  you  for 
some  money." 

"  No,  Luke,  you  are  mistaken.  I  will  read 
it  to  you." 

The  letter  started  thus  : 

ERNEST  RAY  : 

You  will  probably  be  surprised  to  hear  from  me. 
Let  me  begin  by  saying  that  I  have  kept  the  prom 
ise  I  made  to  you  and  Mr.  Robbins  when  you  let 
me  off  six  months  ago.  I  have  turned  over  a  new 
leaf,  and  have  been  strictly  honest  ever  since,  as  I 
promised  you  I  would  be. 


284  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

I  won't  trouble  you  with  an  account  of  my  strug 
gles  to  get  along.  I  will  only  say  that  I  am  em 
ployed  at  present  as  a  waiter  at  the  Planters'  Hotel, 
and  though  I  can't  save  up  much  money,  I  am  able 
to  live  comfortable.  But  you  will  wonder  why  I  am 
writing  to  you.  It  is  because  I  have  seen  your  name 
mentioned  in  an  advertisement  in  one  of  the  St. 
Louis  daily  papers.  I  inclose  the  advertisement,  and 
hope  it  is  something  to  your  advantage.  I  have 
taken  the  liberty  to  write  to  Mr.  Bolton,  telling  him 
where  you  were  six  months  since,  and  now  I  write 
to  you  so  that  you  may  communicate  with  him  also. 
Yours  respectfully, 

TOM  BURNTS. 

The  advertisement  appended  ran  thus : 

INFORMATION  WANTED. — Should  this  meet  the  eye 
of  Ernest  Ray,  some  time  residing  at  Oak  Forks, 
Iowa,  he  is  requested  to  communicate  with  Ben 
jamin  Bolton,  Attorn ey-at-Law,  182  Nassau  Street, 
New  York  City. 


ME.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER.  285 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MR.    BOLTON    AS    A    HUSTLER. 

WHEN  Benjamin  Bolton  left  the  house 
of  Stephen  Ray  with  a  hundred  dol 
lars  in  his  pocket,  it  was  with  the  clearly- 
defined  purpose  in  his  mind  to  find  the  boy 
who  had  been  so  grossly  wronged,  and  force 
the  present  holder  of  the  Ray  estate  to  make 
restitution.  But  he  was  not  yet  in  a  position 
to  move  in  the  matter. 

Only  a  few  hours  previous  he  had  been 
nearly  penniless.  Even  now,  though  he  was 
provided  with  a  sum  of  money  that  made  him 
feel  comparatively  rich,  he  knew  that  it  would 
not  last  very  long.  Clearly  he  must  obtain 
employment. 

He  provided  himself  with  a  respectable  suit 
of  clothing,  and  took  the  next  train  for  New 
York.  He  had  been  in  the  metropolis  two  or 


286       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

three  times  in  the  course  of  his  life,  but  he 
knew  no  one  there.  He  must  push  his  own 
way  without  help. 

While  other  paths  might  be  open  to  him, 
for  he  was  a  man  of  education  and  worldly  ex 
perience,  he  felt  that  he  should  like  to  get 
back  into  his  own  profession.  He  flattered 
himself  that  if  properly  started  he  could  make 
himself  valuable  to  an  established  attorney  in 
the  way  of  hunting  up  cases,  and  taking  part 
in  any  description  of  legal  work  that  might 
be  intrusted  to  him. 

But  how  could  he,  a  man  altogether  un 
known,  recommend  himself  to  any  lawyer 
whose  standing  and  business  would  make  a 
connection  with  him  desirable  ?  Perhaps  in 
any  other  business  there  would  be  less  diffi 
culty  in  making  a  start. 

But  Mr.  Bolton  was  resolute  and  deter 
mined,  and  fortune  favored  him. 

Within  thirty  miles  of  the  city  a  stout  gen 
tleman  of  perhaps  fifty  entered  the  car  and 
sat  down  beside  him.  He  looked  like  a  well- 
to-do  business  man,  prosperous  and  free  from 
care,  but  for  the  anxious  expression  on  his 


ME.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER.  287 

face.  He  appeared  like  a  man  in  trouble  who 
stood  in  need  of  advice. 

The  train  had  gone  several  miles  before  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  confide  in  the  quiet- 
looking  man  who  sat  beside  him.  He  had  al 
ready  taken  stock  of  Bolton  in  several  furtive 
glances  before  he  decided  to  speak  of  the  mat 
ter  that  troubled  him. 

"There  is  something  on  his  mind/'  thought 
Bolton.  "  He  looks  as  if  he  wished  to  speak 
to  some  one." 

He  addressed  a  casual  remark  to  his  com 
panion,  who  instantly  responded. 

"I  don't  like  to  trouble  you/'  he  said,  "but 
I  am  somewhat  perplexed. " 

"  My  dear  sir,  if  in  any  way  I  can  help  you 
I  shall  be  glad  to  do  so,"  answered  Bolton. 
"I  am  a  lawyer " 

"Are  you?"  said  the  other  eagerly.  "I 
want  to  meet  a  good,  honest,  and  smart  lawyer, 
who  will  undertake  a  case  for  me." 

Bolton  pricked  up  his  ears.  This  seemed 
to  be  a  providential  opportunity  of  which  he 
resolved  to  avail  himself. 

"  I  should  not  like  to  praise  myself/'  he 


288  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

said  modestly,  "  but  I  think  you  would  find 
me  faithful  to  your  interests." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  sir.  Are  you  a  New  York 
lawyer?" 

"  I  arn  about  to  connect  myself  with  a  law 
firm  in  the  city/'  answered  Bolton,  heartily 
hoping  that  this  statement  might  prove  ac 
curate. 

"  Then  you  will  be  able  to  help  me." 
"  State  your  case,  if  you  don't  mind." 
Bolton  took  out  a  small  memorandum  book, 
and,  pencil  in  hand,  sat  ready  to  take  down 
the  important  points. 

"  You  must  know,  sir,  that  twenty  years 
ago  my  father  died,  leaving  an  estate  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars.  It  was  divided  equally  be 
tween  my  sister  Martha  and  myself.  I  mar 
ried,  and  Martha,  for  the  last  twenty  years, 
has  been  a  member  of  my  family.  Being  a 
spinster,  with  only  herself  to  provide  for,  her 
property  has  doubled,  while  I,  having  several 
children,  have  barely  held  my  own.  Of 
course  I  expected  that  my  children  and  my 
self  would  inherit  Martha's  money  when  she 
died." 


MR.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER.  289 

"  Very  natural,  sir,  and  very  just." 

"  Well,  Martha  died  last  August.  Imagine 
my  dismay  when  her  will  was  opened  and 
proved  to  bequeath  her  entire  estate  to  various 
charities  in  which  she  never  took  any  partic 
ular  interest  when  living." 

"  Do  you  suspect  any  one  of  influencing  her 
to  this  disposition  of  her  property  ?" 

"Yes,  she  had  had  various  conversations 
with  a  collector  for  these  societies,  who  resided 
in  the  town  during  the  summer,  and  who 
sought  an  introduction  when  he  learned  that 
she  was  a  lady  of  independent  fortune.  He 
called  frequently,  and  flattered  up  my  poor 
sister,  who,  between  ourselves,  had  lately  shown 
signs  of  mental  weakness." 

"  Did  she  cut  off  your  family  entirely  in  her 
will  ?" 

"  Yes ;  she  didn't  leave  even  a  dollar  to  any 
one  of  my  children,  though  one  of  my  daugh 
ters  was  named  for  her." 

"  Was  the  collector  entitled  to  a  commission 
on  sums  secured  for  the  societies  which  he  rep 
resented?" 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  cause  of  his  zeal.      He 

19 


290       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

would  make  a  very  handsome  percentage  on 
an  estate  as  large  as  my  sister's." 

"  But  for  him  would  she  have  been  likely 
to  cut  off  her  relatives  ?" 

"  No ;  we  should  probably  have  received 
every  dollar." 

"  Do  you  think  the  collector  cherished  any 
matrimonial  designs  with  reference  to  your 
sister?" 

"  I  did  think  so  at  one  time,  but  Martha's 
condition  as  an  invalid  led  her  to  discourage 
his  attentions,  though  she  was  evidently  flat 
tered  by  them." 

"  Of  course  you  wish  to  break  the  will  ?" 

"  Yes.     Do  you  think  it  can  be  done  ?" 

"  Upon  the  basis  of  what  you  have  told  me 
I  should  think  the  chances  were  greatly  in 
your  favor." 

His  companion  brightened  up  very  percept 
ibly  at  this  assurance. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  employed  in  any 
similar  cases  ?"  he  asked. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  have  an  important  case  of  the 
kind  on  my  hands  at  this  moment.  The  amount 
involved  is  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars." 


MR.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER.  291 

Mr.  Bolton  rose  greatly  in  the  estimation  of 
his  new  client  after  he  had  made  this  state 
ment. 

"  Is  the  case  at  all  similar?" 

"  Hardly.  It  is  the  case  of  a  will  concealed, 
or  rather  suppressed,  and  acting  upon  a  will 
previously  made.  I  cannot  go  into  details  for 
obvious  reasons,  as  I  wish  to  keep  our  enemy 
in  the  dark." 

"  I  understand.  Have  you  your  card  with 
you,  so  that  I  can  call  at  your  office?" 

This  was  a  puzzling  question  for  Bolton,  but 
he  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"  Tell  me  what  hotel  you  propose  to  stop  at, 
and  I  will  call  upon  you  at  eleven  o'clock  to 
morrow  morning." 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  the  New  York 
hotels." 

"  Then  let  me  recommend  a  house,"  naming 
a  comfortable  but  not  expensive  hostelry  on 
upper  Broadway. 

"  I  will  go  there." 

"  I  think  you  have  not  yet  mentioned  your 


name." 


"  My  name  is  Ephraim  Paulding." 


292       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Bolton  noted  it  down  in  his  memorandum- 
book,  and  soon  after  the  train  ran  into  the 
station  at  Forty -second  Street. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  Boltori  made 
inquiries  and  obtained  the  name  of  a  success 
ful,  go-ahead  lawyer,  having  an  office  at  182 
Nassau  Street.  He  did  not  wait  till  the  next 
day,  but  made  a  call  that  same  evening  at  his 
house  on  Lexington  Avenue. 

Mr.  Norcross,  the  lawyer,  entered  the  parlor 
with  Bolton's  card  in  his  hand  and  a  puzzled 
expression  on  his  face. 

" Have  I  ever  met  you  before,  Mr.  Bolton?" 
he  asked. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Please  state  your  business." 

"  I  should  like  to  enter  your  office.  I  am  a 
lawyer  with  fifteen  years'  experience." 

"  I  should  hardly  think  so,  considering  the 
strange,  and  I  may  say  unprecedented,  pro 
posal  you  are  making." 

"  I  am  quite  aware  that  it  seems  so,  but  I 
can  make  it  worth  your  while." 

"How?" 

"  By  bringing  you  business.     I  can  put  in 


ME.  BOLTON  AS  A  HUSTLER.  293 

your  hands  now  a  will  case  involving  an  estate 
of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  further  on  proba 
bly  a  much  more  important  case/' 

"You  seem  to  be  a  hustler." 

"lam." 

"  Where  has  your  professional  life  been 
spent?"  asked  Norcross. 

"  At  Elrnira.  Now  I  wish  to  remove  to 
this  city.  It  will  give  me  a  larger  and  more 
profitable  field." 

"  Give  me  some  idea  of  the  case  you  say  you 
can  put  in  my  hands." 

Bolton  did  so.  His  terse  and  crisp  state 
ment — for  he  was  really  a  man  of  ability — 
interested  the  lawyer,  and  disposed  him  favor 
ably  toward  the  matter. 

The  result  of  the  interview  was  that  he  en 
gaged  Bolton  at  a  small  salary  and  a  commis 
sion  on  business  brought  to  the  office  for  a 
period  of  three  months. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bolton,  as  he  rose  to  go. 
"  You  will  not  regret  this  step." 

The  next  morning  Bolton  brought  his  rail 
road  acquaintance  to  the  office,  and  Mr.  Nor- 
cross  formally  undertook  his  case. 


294       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"I  think  we  shall  win,"  he  said.  "It  is 
an  aggravated  case  of  undue  influence.  Mr. 
Bolton  will  from  time  to  time  communicate  to 
you  the  steps  we  have  taken." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  go  into  details.  It  is 
enough  to  say  that  the  will  was  broken,  and  a 
goodly  sum  found  its  way  to  the  coffers  of 
lawyer  Norcross. 

By  this  time  Benjamin  Bolton  had  estab 
lished  himself  in  the  favor  of  his  employer, 
who,  at  the  end  of  three  months,  made  a  new 
and  much  more  advantageous  arrangement. 
Bolton  had  not  as  yet  taken  any  steps  in  Er 
nest's  case,  but  he  now  felt  that  the  time  had 
come  to  do  so.  He  wrote  to  the  postmaster  at 
Oak  Forks,  inquiring  if  he  knew  a  boy  named 
Ernest  Ray,  but  learned,  in  reply,  that  Ernest 
had  left  the  place  some  months  before,  and 
had  not  since  been  heard  from. 


THE  EESULT  OF  AN  ADVERTISEMENT.          295 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    RESULT    OF    AN    ADVERTISEMENT. 

THE  advertisement  for  Ernest  in  a  St. 
Louis  daily  paper  came  about  in  this 
way: 

Bolton  was  in  the  habit  of  inquiring  from 
time  to  time,  of  Western  clients,  if  they  were 
acquainted  with  any  persons  bearing  the  name 
of  Ray.  One  gentleman, who  frequently  visited 
St.  Louis,  answered,  "  Yes,  I  know  a  boy 
named  Ray." 

"Tell  me  all  you  know  about  him,"  said 
Bolton,  eagerly. 

"  I  was  staying  at  the  Southern  Hotel  last 
winter,"  answered  Mr.  Windham,  "  when  my 
attention  was  called  to  a  bright-looking  news 
boy  who  sold  the  evening  newspapers  outside. 
I  was  so  attracted  by  him  that  I  inquired  his 
name.  He  said  it  was  Ray,  and  that  he  was 
alone  in  the  world." 


296       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"What  was  his  first  name?" 

"  I  can't  recall.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  heard 
it." 

"Was  it  Ernest?" 

"  Very  possibly.  But,  as  I  said  before,  I 
cannot  speak  with  any  certainty." 

"  How  old  did  the  boy  appear  to  be  ?" 

"  About  sixteen." 

"  That  would  have  been  the  age  of  Dudley 
Hay's  son,"  said  Bolton  to  himself. 

"  I  suppose  you  didn't  learn  where  the  boy 
lived  ?" 

"  No." 

This  was  all  the  information  Mr.  Windham 
was  able  to  impart,  but  Bolton  felt  that  it  was 
possibly  of  importance.  It  was,  in  fact,  the 
first  clue  he  had  been  able  to  obtain. 

That  Dudley  Eay's  son  should  be  forced 
by  dire  necessity  to  sell  newspapers  was  not 
in  the  least  improbable.  He  went  to  an  ad 
vertising  agency,  and  inserted  the  advertise 
ment  already  mentioned. 

A  few  days  later  he  received  two  letters 
post-marked  St.  Louis. 

He  opened  them  with  a  thrill  of  excitement. 


THE  EESULT  OF  AN  ADVERTISEMENT.          297 

He  felt  that  he  was  on  the  verge  of  making 
an  important  discovery. 

One  letter  was  addressed  in  a  school-boy 
hand,  and  ran  thus  : 

DEAR  SIR  : 

I  saw  your  advertisement  in  one  of  the  morn 
ing  papers.  I  hope  it  means  me.  My  name  is  not 
Ernest,  but  it  may  have  been  changed  by  some  peo 
ple  with  whom  I  lived  in  Nebraska.  I  am  sixteen 
years  old,  and  am  a  poor  boy  obliged  to  earn  my  liv 
ing  by  selling  papers.  My  father  died  wrhen  I  was  a 
baby,  and  my  mother  three  years  later.  So  I  am 
alone  in  the  world,  and  I  am  having  a  hard  time.  I 
suppose  you  wouldn't  advertise  for  me  unless  you 
had  some  good  news  for  me.  You  may  send  your 
answer  to  this  letter  to  the  Southern  Hotel.  The 
clerk  is  a  friend  of  mine,  and  he  says  he  will  save  it 
for  me. 

Yours  respectfully, 

ARTHUR  RAY. 

"  That  isn't  the  boy,"  said  Bolton,  laying 
down  the  letter  in  disappointment.  "  The 
name  is  different,  and,  besides,  the  writer  says 
that  his  father  died  when  he  was  a  baby.  Of 
course  that  settles  the  question.  He  is  a  dif 
ferent  boy." 


298       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

He  opened  the  second  letter,  hoping  that  it 
might  be  more  satisfactory. 

It  was  the  letter  of  Tom  Burns,  setting 
forth  his  meeting  Ernest  at  Oak  Forks,  and 
afterwards  running  across  him  at  Oreville  in 
California. 

"  Eureka !"  exclaimed  Bolton,  his  face 
beaming  with  exultation.  "  This  is  the  boy  and 
no  mistake.  I  will  at  once  answer  this  letter, 
and  also  write  to  Ernest  Ray  in  California." 

This  was  the  letter  received  by  Burns : 

DEAR  SIR  : 

I  am  very  much  indebted  to  you  for  the  in 
formation  contained  in  your  letter  of  two  days  since. 
I  have  reason  to  think  that  the  boy  you  mention  is 
the  one  of  whom  I  am  in  search.  If  it  proves  to  be 
so,  I  am  free  to  tell  you  that  he  will  be  much  bene 
fited  by  your  communication.  There  is  a  consider 
able  estate,  now  wrongfully  held  by  another,  to  which 
he  is  entitled.  Should  things  turn  out  as  I  hope  and 
expect,  I  will  see  that  you  lose  nothing  by  the  ser 
vice  you  have  rendered  him  and  myself.  I  will  write 
to  him  by  this  mail.  Should  you  change  your  ad 
dress,  please  notify  me. 

Yours  truly, 

BENJAMIN  BOLTON, 
182  Nassau  Street,  New  York. 


THE  RESULT  OF  AN  ADVERTISEMENT.          299 

The  letter  written  to  Ernest  ran  thus  : 

ERNEST  RAY,  OREVILLE,  CALIFORNIA  : 

I  have  for  some  time  been  seeking  to  find  you. 
Finally,  in  response  to  an  advertisement  inserted  in 
a  St.  Louis  daily  paper,  I  learn  that  you  are  at  pres 
ent  living  in  Oreville,  California.  This  information 
was  given  me  by  one  Thomas  Burns,  who  is  em 
ployed  at  the  Planters'  Hotel.  The  name  is,  I  hope, 
familiar  to  you.  It  is  very  desirable  that  I  should 
have  an  interview  with  you.  If  you  are  the  son  of 
Dudley  Ray,  formerly  residing  at  or  near  Elmira, 
what  I  have  to  say  will  be  greatly  to  your  advantage. 

Will  you  write  me  at  once,  letting  me  know 
whether  this  is  the  case  ?  Also,  state  your  present 
circumstances,  and  whether  you  need  pecuniary 
help.  It  is  unfortunate  that  we  are  so  far  apart.  I 
am  connected  with  a  New  York  legal  firm,  and  can 
not  very  well  go  to  California,  but  I  might  assist  you 
to  come  to  New  York  if,  as  I  suppose,  your  means 
are  limited.  Will  you  write  to  me  at  once  whether 
this  is  the  case?  I  shall  anxiously  await  your  reply. 

BENJAMIN  BOLTON,  Attorney-at-law, 

182  Nassau  Street,  New  York  City. 

Ernest  read  this  letter  with  eager  interest, 
and  showed  it  to  Luke  Bobbins. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Luke  ?"  he  asked. 

"  What  do  I  think  of  it  ?  It  looks  very 
much  as  if  you  were  entitled  to  some  money." 


300       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Write  this  Mr.  Bolton  that  you  will  go  at 
once  to  New  York,  and  call  upon  him." 

"  But  how  about  the  store  ?  I  should  not 
like  to  leave  Mr.  Ames  in  the  lurch." 

"  I  will  take  your  place  here,  and  in  order 
to  qualify  myself  for  it,  I  will  come  in  to 
morrow  and  begin  to  serve  an  apprenticeship." 

Ernest  wrote  to  Bolton  that  he  would  start 
for  New  York  in  a  week.  He  added  that  he 
had  the  money  necessary  for  the  journey.  He 
said  also  that  he  was  the  son  of  Dudley  Kay, 
and  that  1-ie  remembered  visiting  Elmira  with 
his  father. 

When  Bolton  received  this  letter  he  ex 
claimed,  triumphantly,  "  Now,  Stephen  Ray,  I 
have  you  on  the  hip.  You  looked  down  upon 
me  when  I  called  upon  you.  In  your  pride 
and  your  unjust  possession  of  wealth  you 
thought  me  beneath  your  notice.  Unless  I 
am  greatly  mistaken,  I  shall  be  the  instru 
ment  under  Providence  of  taking  from  you 
your  ill-gotten  gains,  and  carrying  out  the 
wishes  expressed  in  the  last  will  of  your  de 
ceased  uncle." 


A  STRANGE  MEETING.  301 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

A    STRANGE    MEETING. 

71RNEST  left  Oreville  with  four  hundred 


dollars  in  his  pocket.  The  balance  of 
his  money  he  left  in  the  hands  of  his  friend 
Horace  Ames,  upon  whom  he  was  authorized 
to  draw  if  he  should  have  need. 

"  I  don't  intend  to  carry  all  my  money  with 
me,"  he  said  to  Luke  Bobbins.  "  I  might  lose 
it." 

"  Even  if  you  did,  Ernest,  you  could  draw 
on  me.  If  you  need  it,  do  so  without  any  hesi 
tation." 

"  You  are  a  good  friend,  Luke,"  said  Er 
nest  warmly.  "What  should  I  do  without 
you?" 

"  I  am  beginning  to  wonder  what  I  shall  do 
without  you,  Ernest.  Suppose,  now,  this  law 
yer  puts  a  fortune  in  your  hands?" 

"If  he  does,  Luke,  I  am  sure  to  need  your 
help  in  some  way.  I  will  see  that  we  are  not 
separated." 


302  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Thank  you,  Ernest.  I  know  you  mean 
what  you  say.  You  may  find  a  better  friend, 
but  you  won't  find  one  that  is  more  ready  to 
serve  you  than  Luke  Robbins." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  Luke,"  said  Ernest  with 
a  bright  smile,  as  he  pressed  the  rough  hand 
of  his  faithful  friend. 

Ernest  did  not  loiter  on  his  way,  though  he 
was  tempted  to  stop  in  Chicago,  but  he  re 
flected  that  he  would  have  plenty  of  chances 
to  visit  that  bustling  city  after  his  business 
had  been  attended  to. 

As  he  approached  Buffalo  on  the  train  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  two  persons  sitting 
in  front  of  him.  They  were  a  father  and  son, 
as  he  gathered  from  the  conversation. 

The  son  was  about  his  own  age  and  size,  ap 
parently,  but  rather  more  slender  in  figure. 
He  had  a  peevish  expression,  and  Ernest 
doubted  whether  he  would  like  him. 

"  Father,"  Ernest  heard  him  say,  "  won't 
you  give  me  a  little  money  ?  I  am  dead  broke." 

The  father  frowned. 

"  I  gave  you  five  dollars  when  we  set  out  on 
this  journey,"  he  said. 


A  STRANGE  MEETING.  303 

"  Well,  five  dollars  won't  last  forever/'  was 
the  pert  rejoinder. 

"  It  ought  to  last  more  than  four  days,  Clar 


ence." 


Ernest  started.  He  knew  that  his  cousin's 
name  was  Clarence.  Could  this  be  Stephen 
Ray  and  his  son  ? 

Even  if  it  were  so,  he  felt  that  it  would  not 
be  advisable  to  make  himself  known.  This 
business  which  was  carrying  him  to  New  York 
might  bring  him  into  conflict  with  Stephen 
Ray.  If  so,  he  would  not  care  to  let  his  pres 
ence  be  known. 

On  arriving  at  Buffalo  Ernest  left  the  train. 
He  had  never  visited  Niagara,  and  being  now 
so  near,  he  felt  that  he  could  not  forego  the 
opportunity. 

He  registered  at  the  Tefft  House,  and  de 
cided  to  remain  twenty-four  hours.  This  would 
give  him  time  to  see  the  Falls. 

Ernest  had  a  room  assigned  him,  and  went 
up  to  it  at  once  in  order  to  have  the  luxury  of 
a  good  wash. 

Five  minutes  afterwards,  Stephen  Ray  and 
his  son  Clarence  entered  the  hotel. 


304  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

Mr.  Ray,  in  a  pompous  manner,  went  up  to 
the  desk  and  said  to  the  clerk,  "  Can  you 
give  me  a  good  room  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  want  a  front  room,  if  you  have  it." 

"I  can't  give  you  a  front  room,  but  I  can 
give  you  a  good  side  room." 

Stephen  Ray  grumbled  a  little,  but  finally 
decided  to  take  the  room  offered  him.  He  saw 
that  his  haughty  manner  did  not  impress  the 
clerk,  who  was  accustomed  to  men  of  his  class. 

Clarence  looked  over  his  father's  shoulder 
as  he  registered. 

"  Why,  pa,"  he  exclaimed  in  surprise, 
"  there's  another  guest  of  our  name." 

"Where?"  asked  his  father. 

"  There,  three  names  above  your  signature." 

Stephen  Ray  looked  at  the  register,  and 
started  violently  as  he  read  the  entry  : 

ERNEST  RAY,  Oreville,  California. 

"What's  the  matter,  pa?"  asked  Clarence, 
noticing  his  father's  agitation. 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  answered  his 
father,  with  an  effort. 


A  STRANGE  MEETING.  305 

"Haven't  we  a  cousin  named  Ernest  Ray?" 

"  We  had,  but  he  is  dead." 

"  It  is  strange  that  there  should  be  another 
person  of  the  name." 

"  Not  at  all.  The  world  is  large,  and  there 
are  probably  a  good  many  persons  of  one 


name." 


"  This  one  is  from  California." 

"  So  I  see.  By  the  way,"  here  Mr.  Ray 
addressed  the  clerk,  "  did  you  observe  the 
person  who  registered  under  the  name  of 
Ray  ?" 

"  Yes.  It  is  a  boy  about  the  size  of  this 
young  gentleman." 

"  It  is  strange  !"  said  Clarence.  "  It  may 
be  our  cousin." 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  the  person  you  re 
fer  to  is  dead  ?"  said  his  father,  testily. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  thought  Clarence,  but 
he  did  not  express  his  unbelief.  He  deter 
mined,  however,  to  have  an  interview  with 
the  boy,  and  find  out  for  himself  all  about 
him. 

He  saw  Ernest  at  the  table  soon  after,  and 

so  did  Stephen  Ray.     The  latter  noted  with 

20 


306       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

alarm  the  resemblance  of  the  boy  to  his  cousin 
Dudley  Ray,  whose  estate  he  had  usurped. 

"  I  hope  Bolton  wont't  get  hold  of  him/'  he 
said  to  himself.  "  It  would  be  bad  for  me." 

After  supper  Mr.  Ray  went  out,  leaving 
Clarence  to  himself. 

He  improved  the  opportunity.  Seeing 
Ernest  sitting  alone,  he  went  up  to  him. 

"  Is  your  name  Ray  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  Ernest  Ray." 

"  My  name  is  Clarence  Ray." 

"  So  I  thought.     We  are  cousins." 

"  That's  what  I  told  pa,  but  he  said  it  was 
not  so — that  Ernest  Ray  was  dead." 

"  Your  father's  name  is  Stephen  Ray  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  have  known  of  him  and  you  since  I  was 
old  enough  to  remember  anything." 

"  Then  you  are  really  my  cousin  Ernest  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  wonder  why  pa  said  you  were  dead.  I 
will  tell  pa  he  is  mistaken." 

"  No,  Clarence,  I  would  rather  you  wouldn't. 
There  are  reasons  why  it  is  better  not  to  say 
anything  about  it." 


A  STRANGE  MEETIN3.  307 

"  All  right.     Are  you  well  off ?" 

Ernest  smiled. 

"  I  am  not  rich,"  he  said,  "  but  I  am  com 
fortably  fixed." 

"Do  you  live  in  California?" 

"  I  have  lived  there  for  the  last  few 
months." 

"  Why  did  you  come  East  ?" 

"  On  a  little  business." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  well  off.  I  think  pa 
was  afraid  you  were  a  poor  relation." 

"  Your  father  is  rich  ?" 

"  Yes,  ever  so  rich.  We've  got  a  fine  place 
near  Elmira.  If  pa  wasn't  so  cranky  I  would 
invite  you  there  to  visit  me." 

"  Thank  you  all  the  same,"  said  Ernest, 
smiling. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  Stephen  Ray 
came  in,  Ernest  noticed  that  he  looked  at  him 
critically.  He,  too,  examined  the  man  who, 
he  had  reason  to  believe,  was  enjoying  the 
estates  that  should  be  his,  and  was  not  attracted 
towards  him. 

"  What  will  he  say,"  thought  Ernest,  "  when 
I  make  a  formal  demand  for  the  property  ?" 


308       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGEB. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  all  that's  unlucky  can 
have  brought  that  boy  here  at  this  time?" 
Stephen  Ray  was  saying  to  himself. 

He  never  for  an  instant  doubted  Ernest's 
identity — in  fact,  he  could  not  well  have  done 
so,  for  he  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  Dudley 
Ray,  who  had  been  a  strikingly  handsome 
man,  very  much  the  superior  of  Stephen  in 
personal  attractions. 

Stephen  Ray's  curiosity  was  excited.  Er 
nest  did  not  appear  like  the  average  poor  re 
lation.  He  was  quite  as  well  dressed  as  Clar 
ence.  Besides,  he  had  registered  at  a  high- 
priced  hotel,  and  this  alone  showed  that  he 
was  not  cramped  for  means. 

This  gave  him  some  satisfaction,  as  it  made 
it  less  likely  that  he  would  appeal  to  him  for 
assistance. 

Stephen  Ray  was  rather  surprised  that  Clar 
ence  made  no  further  reference  to  Ernest.  Had 
he  known  that  the  two  had  had  a  conversation 
he  would  have  been  seriously  disturbed.  He 
only  hoped  that  Bolton  would  not  get  hold  of 
the  boy. 


MR.  BOLTON  AND  HIS  CLIENT.  309 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MR.    BOLTON    AND    HIS    CLIENT. 

"DENJAMIN  BOLTON  sat  at  his  desk  in 
-D  the  law  office  of  Albert  Norcross,  on  Nas 
sau  Street.  He  was  well,  even  handsomely 
dressed,  and  looked  very  unlike  the  shabby 
tramp  who  had  called  months  before  at  the 
house  of  Stephen  Ray. 

He  was  really  a  man  of  ability,  and  this  his 
employer  had  found  out.  He  had  raised  Bol- 
ton's  salary  to  a  liberal  figure,  and  felt  that  in 
securing  his  services  he  had  made  a  real  ac 
quisition. 

Bolton  was  absorbed  in  preparation  for  a 
case  which  had  been  assigned  to  him,  when  a 
boy  came  to  his  desk  with  a  card. 

Bolton  no  sooner  read  the  name,  "  Ernest 
Ray,"  than  he  became  eager  and  excited. 

"  Tell  him  to  come  in,"  he  said. 

Ernest,  quiet  and  self-possessed,  entered  the 
office  and  approached  the  lawyer's  desk. 


310       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Bolton?"  lie  asked 

"  Yes,  and  you- 

"  I  am  Ernest  Kay." 

Benjamin  Bolton  looked  keenly  at  the  boy, 
admiring  his  handsome  face  and  manly  bear 
ing. 

"  I  see  your  father's  looks  in  you,"  he  said. 

"  Then  you  knew  my  father  ?"  said  Ernest, 
eagerly. 

"  Yes.     We  were  young  men  together." 

"  I  am  glad  to  meet  you  then." 

"You  come  from  California?" 

"Yes." 

"I  judge  from  your  appearance  that  you 
have  not  suffered  from  poverty." 

u  I  have  been  fortunate  at  Oreville.  At 
Oak  Forks  I  lived  very  humbly  with  Peter 
Brant,  an  old  servant  of  my  father." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  Peter.  Is  he  alive 
still  ?" 

"  No,  he  died  a  little  less  than  a  year  since. 
Till  his  death  I  thought  him  my  uncle,  and 
knew  no  other  relatives.  Before  he  died  he 
told  me  who  I  was." 

"How  did  he  live?" 


ME.  BOLTON  AND  HIS  CLIENT.  311 

"  On  a  small  sum  left  by  my  father.  When 
lie  died  it  was  all  exhausted  except  a  hundred 
dollars.  I  took  that  and  went  to  California 
with  a  man  named  Luke  Bobbins,  who  has 
proved  my  faithful  friend." 

"What  were  you  doing  in  California? 
Were  you  working  at  the  mines  ?" 

"  No.  I  was  keeping  a  store  where  I  sold 
miners'  supplies." 

"  Did  it  pay  you  well  ?" 

"  I  was  very  well  paid  for  a  boy.  When 
I  left  Oreville  I  was  worth  a  thousand  dol 
lars." 

"  That  is  well,  but  it  is  only  a  drop  in  the 
bucket  compared  with  the  fortune  you  are  en 
titled  to." 

"  Now  held  by  Mr.  Stephen  Ray  ?" 

"  Yes ;  he  will  be  surprised  to  see  you  here 
in  the  East." 

"  He  has  seen  me,"  said  Ernest,  quickly. 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  lawyer.  "You 
have  not  called  upon  him  ?" 

"  No.  I  met  him  on  the  train  and  after 
wards  at  a  Buffalo  hotel.  My  cousin  Clarence 
was  with  him." 


312       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"Did  you  have  any  conference  with  them  ?" 
"  I    talked   with    Clarence,    not   with    his 
father." 

"  Did  you  think  the  father  knew  you  ?" 
"  Yes,  but  he  did  not  speak  to  me." 
"  He  told  me  when  I  called  upon  him  some 
time  ago  that  you  were  dead — that  you  had 
died  in  Georgia." 

"What  could  have  been  his  object?" 
"  He  did  not  wish  me  to   find  you,  for  I 
had  the  proof  that  the  estate  was  rightfully 
yours." 

"  What  led  you  to  think  I  was  alive  ?" 
"  I  cross-examined  Clarence,  who  did  not 
know  his  father's  desire  to  keep  us  apart." 
"  Is  the  estate  a  large  one  ?" 
"  Quarter  of  a  million,  at  least." 
Ernest's    eyes   opened   wide   with    amaze 
ment. 

"  But  I  will  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Norcross, 
my  principal,  and  we  will  talk  over  our  plan 
of  operations.  You  must  assert  you  rights, 
and  demand  that  your  grandfather's  will  be 
carried  out.  Are  you  content  to  place  your 
self  in  our  hands  ?" 


ME.  BOLTON  AND  HIS  CLIENT.  313 

"  Entirely  so.  But  I  am  sorry  for  Cousin 
Stephen.  It  will  be  a  great  blow  to  him." 

"  Don't  waste  any  pity  upon  him.  He  de 
frauded  your  father,  and  meant  to  defraud 
you." 


314  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

AN    IMPORTANT    INTERVIEW. 

"  A  GENTLEMAN  to  see  you,  sir."  This 
_T\_  was  the  message  brought  to  Stephen 
Ray  by  the  servant  one  morning. 

"  Did  he  give  his  name?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Very  well ;  bring  him  up." 

Mr.  Ray  was  sitting  at  the  desk  in  his 
library.  He  was  looking  over  some  plans  for 
the  improvement  of  his  already  handsome 
residence. 

He  proposed  to  enlarge  a  lower  room  by  a 
bay-window,  and  to  carry  the  piazza  round  on 
each  side.  It  would  cost  something,  but  his 
income  was  ample — at  least  four  times  his  ex 
penditure. 

He  looked  up  as  a  handsomely  dressed  gen 
tleman  entered  the  room. 

"  What  is  your  business,  sir?"  asked  Stephen 
Ray,  formally. 


AN  IMPORTANT  INTERVIEW.  315- 

The  visitor  smiled. 

"  You  don't  recognize  me,  Stephen  Kay  ?" 
he  said. 

"  Benjamin  Bolton  !"  exclaimed  the  other, 
his  countenance  changing. 

"  The  same." 

"  I  judge  from  your  appearance  that  youi 
circumstances  have  improved,"  said  Mr.  Ray, 
coldly. 

"  Fortunately,  yes." 

"  You  have  probably  come  to  receive  my 
congratulations.  Well,  I  congratulate  you." 

"  Thank  you.  The  money  you  kindly 
loaned  me  when  I  was  last  here  did  me  a  great 
deal  of  good." 

"  I  presume  you  have  come  to  repay  it," 
said  Ray,  with  a  sneer. 

"  You  are  right,"  and  Bolton  drew  from 
his  pocket  two  fifty-dollar  bills,  which  he  ten 
dered  to  his  host. 

Stephen  Ray  was  fond  of  money,  and  he 
received  the  notes  with  satisfaction. 

"You  have  acted  honorably,"  he  said  more 
graciously.  "Are  you  located  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  Mr.  Bolton  ?" 


316       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  No,  in  New  York  City.  I  am  in  a  law 
office  there." 

"I  am  pleased  with  your  success.  I  would  ask 
you  to  remain,  but  I  am  busy  this  morning." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Kay,  but  the  repayment 
of  the  loan  was  not  my  only  errand.  1  am 
here  on  more  important  business." 

Stephen  Ray's  countenance  changed.  He 
began  to  fear  that  Bolton  had  found  Ernest. 

"Well?"  he  said  stiffly. 

"  When  I  was  here  last  year  you  told  me 
that  Dudley  Ray's  son  Ernest  was  dead." 

"  Yes,  he  died  in  Alabama." 

"When  I  was  here  before  you  told  me  he 
died  in  Georgia." 

"  I  believe  it  was  in  Georgia,"  said  Stephen 
Ray,  disconcerted. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  it  is  a  mis 
take — about  his  death,  I  mean.  He  is  as  much 
alive  as  you  are." 

"Mr.  Bolton,"  said  Ray  angrily,  "you  are 
trying  to  impose  upon  me.  The  boy  is  dead, 
I  tell  you." 

"  And  I  tell  you  he  is  not  dead.  I  saw  him 
only  yesterday." 


AN  IMPORTANT  INTERVIEW.         317 

"  You  may  have  seen  some  one  who  pre 
tended  to  be  Ernest  Ray." 

"I  should  not  be  easily  deceived.  He  is  the 
image  of  his  father." 

"  I  don't  believe  the  boy  is  alive." 

"Shall  I  bring  him  here?" 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself.  I  can 
have  nothing  to  say  to  him,  whether  he  is 
really  Ernest  Ray  or  an  impostor." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  If  he  is  Ernest  Ray, 
under  the  will  which  I  have  in  my  possession 
he  is  the  owner  of  this  property." 

Bolton  spoke  firmly,  and  looked  Ray  reso 
lutely  in  the  eye. 

Stephen  Ray  flushed  and  then  paled.  There 
was  a  great  fear  in  his  heart,  but  he  resolved 
to  brave  it  out. 

"  This  is  a  base  conspiracy,"  he  ejaculated. 
"  Your  share  in  it  ought  to  land  you  in  State's 
prison." 

"I  am  willing  to  take  my  chance  of  it,  said 
the  lawyer  calmly.  "  Didn't  you  recognize  the 
boy  when  you  saw  him  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  You  saw  him  in  the  hotel  at  Buffalo.    He 


318  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

recognized  you,  and  bad  a  conversation  with 
your  son." 

"Had  a  conversation  with  Clarence?  That 
is  a  lie.  Clarence  never  spoke  to  me  about  it." 

"  You  bad  better  question  him.  But  there 
is  no  need  of  sparring.  I  tell  you  confidently 
that  Ernest  Ray  is  alive,  and  demands  the 
estate  which  you  hold,  under  his  grandfather's 
will." 

"  This  is  simply  ridiculous.  Of  course  there 
is  but  one  answer  to  such  a  proposal." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  I  refuse  absolutely  to  make  any  conces 
sion  to  an  impostor." 

"  That  is  your  final  answer  ?" 

"  It  is." 

"  Then  I  give  you  notice  that  the  boy  will 
at  once  bring  suit  for  the  restoration  of  the 
estate  and  the  vindication  of  his  rights." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  his  lawyer,"  sneered 
Kay. 

"  The  firm  with  which  I  am  connected  has 
undertaken  the  case." 

"  What  is  the  firm  ?"  asked  Stephen  Ray, 
with  an  anxiety  which  he  could  not  conceal. 


AN  IMPORTANT  INTERVIEW.         319 

"  Norcross  &  Co.,"  answered  Bolton. 

Great  drops  of  perspiration  appeared  on  the 
brow  of  Stephen  Ray.  He  knew  very  well 
the  high  reputation  and  uniform  success  of  the 
firm  in  question. 

He  did  not  immediately  answer,  but  began 
to  pace  the  room  in  agitation.  Finally  he 
spoke. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  This  has 
come  upon  me  as  a  surprise.  I  thought  the 
boy  dead.  I  may  be  willing  to  make  some 
arrangement.  Bring  him  here  some  day  next 
week — say  Tuesday — and  we  will  talk  the 
matter  over." 

"  You  must  do  something  more  than  talk 
the  matter  over,  Stephen  Kay.  A  great  in 
justice  has  been  done,  and  the  wrong  must  be 
righted." 

11  Come  here  next  Tuesday,"  was  the  only 
answer  made. 

The  lawyer  bowed  and  withdrew. 


320  THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

CONCLUSION. 

ON  Tuesday  Bolton  returned  with  Ernest. 
Two  hours  were  spent  in  conference 
with  Stephen  Ray.  The  latter  fought  hard, 
but  had  to  yield  in  the  end.  He  understood 
perfectly  well  the  strength  of  his  opponent's 
case. 

Ernest  consented  to  receive  the  estate  as 
it  was  bequeathed  to  his  father,  without  any 
demand  for  back  revenues.  Whatever  Stephen 
Ray  had  accumulated  besides,  he  was  allowed 
to  retain. 

As  this  amounted  to  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  Ray  felt  that  it  might  have  been 
worse.  Had  he  not  been  dissuaded  by  Bol 
ton,  Ernest  would  have  consented  to  share  the 
estate  with  the  usurper,  but  the  lawyer  repre 
sented  that  this  would  be  condoning  the 
wrong  done  to  his  father. 


CONCLUSION.  321 

In  a  month  the  whole  matter  was  settled, 
and  Stephen  Ray  departed,  removing  to  Chi 
cago,  in  which  city  he  had  some  business  in 
terests. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  with  this  large  house?" 
asked  Ernest.  "  I  don't  want  to  live  here." 

"  I  know  of  a  gentleman  who  would  like  to 
hire  it  for  term  of  years,"  responded  Boltou. 
"He  will  pay  a  rental  of  five  thousand  dol 
lars  a  year.  The  bonds  which  you  inherit 
will  yield  an  income  equally  large." 

"  So  that  my  income  will  be  ten  thousand 
dollars  a  year?"  said  Ernest,  dazzled. 

"  Yes." 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  it  all  ?" 

Bolton  smiled. 

"  You  are  but  seventeen,"  he  said.  "A 
few  years  hence  you  will  probably  marry. 
Then  you  can  occupy  the  house  yourself. 
Meanwhile " 

"  I  will  go  back  to  California.  Luke  will 
expect  me.  While  I  am  away  I  appoint  you 
my  man  of  business.  I  wish  you  to  have 
charge  of  my  property  at  a  proper  commis 


sion." 


322       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"  I  will  undertake  the  charge  with  pleasure." 

Bolton  knew  how  much  this  would  increase 
his  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  firm  by 
which  he  was  employed.  Still,  Ernest  could 
not  have  made  a  better  choice.  Bolton  was 
no  longer  intemperate.  He  was  shrewd  and 
keen,  and  loyal  to  his  young  employer. 

Ernest  returned  to  California,  but  he  had 
lost  his  old  zest  for  business,  now  that  his  for 
tune  was  secure.  He  soon  came  East  again, 
and  entered  upon  a  plan  of  systematic  study, 
ending  with  a  collegiate  course.  He  brought 
with  him  Frank  Fox,  the  son  of  the  dead  out 
law,  who  regarded  him  with  devoted  affection. 
They  lived  together,  and  he  placed  Frank  at  a 
well-known  school,  justly  rioted  for  the  suc- 
€ess  of  its  pupils. 

Of  the  many  boys  with  whom  Frank  was 
associated  not  one  suspected  that  the  attrac 
tive  lad,  who  was  a  favorite  with  all,  was  a 
son  of  the  noted  desperado  whose  deeds  had 
been  commemorated  in  dime  novels  and  were 
a  matter  of  common  knowledge  in  the  West. 
Ernest  had  cautioned  the  boy  to  say  as  little 
as  possible  of  his  past  history. 


CONCLUSION.  323 

Years  have  gone  by,  and  what  Bolton  pre 
dicted  has  come  to  pass.  Ernest  is  a  young 
man,  a  college  gnnhinto,  ;md  ho  will  soon  l>o 
married  to  a  young  lady  of  high  position  in 
the  city  of  New  York.  He  will  go  abroad 
for  a  year,  and  on  his  return  will  take  up  his 
home  on  his  ancestral  estate. 

Last  week  he  received  a  letter  from  a 
patient  in  a  New  York  City  hospital.  It  was 
signed  John  Franklin,  a  name  with  which  he 
was  not  familiar. 

In  some  wonder  he  answered  the  call,  and 
was  led  to  a  bed  on  which  lay  a  gaunt,  spec 
tral  man,  evidently  in  the  last  stage  of  exist 
ence. 

"Is  this  John  Franklin?"  asked  Ernest, 
doubtfully. 

"  That  is  the  name  I  go  by  now,"  answered 
the  dying  man. 

"Do  I  know  you?  Have  I  ever  met 
you?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  don't  remember  you." 

"  If  I  tell  you  my  real  name,  will  you  keep 
it  secret  ?" 


324       THE  YOUNG  BANK  MESSENGER. 

"Yes." 

"  Then  I  am  John  Fox." 

"What!  the  noted  outlaw?" 

"  I  am  all  that  is  left  of  him.  You  will  not 
betray  me?" 

"  No ;  certainly  not.  Can  I  do  anything 
for  you  ?" 

"  Yes ;  you  were  left  the  guardian  of  my 
brother's  child  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"Is  he  alive?     Is  he  well?" 

"  Yes." 

"Will  you  bring  him  here?  Will  you  let 
me  see  him  before  I  die?" 

"  I  will.  I  cannot  refuse  the  request  of  a 
dying  man." 

So  Ernest  brought  Frank  to  the  bedside 
of  his  dying  uncle.  It  was  a  sad  inter 
view.  Frank  was  moved,  but  John  Fox, 
seeing  him  strong,  handsome,  robust,  felt 
comforted. 

"  He  at  least  has  profited  by  the  fate  that 
overtook  his  father  and  myself.  I  shall  die 
content,  for  I  leave  him  in  good  hands.  Don't 
let  him  think  too  hardly  of  us !" 


CONCLUSION.  325 

"  I  will  not.  And  so  far  as  I  can  compass 
it,  his  future  life  shall  be  happy." 

The  dying  outlaw  reached  out  his  hand  and 
pressed  Ernest's  gratefully.  A  day  later,  and 
he  was  dead. 


THE   JOHN    C.    WINSTON    CO/S    POPULAR   JUVENII^ES. 


L  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 

NEITHER  as  a  writer  does  he  stand  apart  from  the  great 
currents  of  life  and  select  some  exceptional  phase  or  odd 
combination  of  circumstances.  He  stands  on  the  common 
level  and  appeals  to  the  universal  heart,  and  all  that  he  sug 
gests  or  achieves  is  on  the  plane  and  in  the  line  of  march  of 
the  great  body  of  humanity. 

The  Jack  Hazard  series  of  stories,  published  in  the  late 
Our  Young  Folks,  and  continued  in  the  first  volume  of  St. 
Nicholas,  under  the  title  of  "Fast  Friends,"  is  no  doubt 
destined  to  hold  a  high  place  in  this  class  of  literature.  The 
delight  of  the  boys  in  them  (and  of  their  seniors,  too)  is 
well  founded.  They  go  to  the  right  spot  every  time.  Trow- 
bridge  knows  the  heart  of  a  boy  like  a  book,  and  the  heart 
of  a  man,  too,  and  he  has  laid  them  both  open  in  these  books 
in  a  most  successful  manner.  Apart  from  the  qualities  that 
render  the  series  so  attractive  to  all  young  readers,  they 
liave  great  value  on  account  of  their  portraitures  of  American, 
country  life  and  character.  The  drawing  is  wonderfully 
accurate,  and  as  spirited  as  it  is  true.  The  constable,  Sel- 
lick,  is  an  original  character,  and  as  minor  figures  where  will 
we  find  anything  better  than  Miss  Wansey,  and  Mr.  P.  Pip 
kin,  Esq.  The  picture  of  Mr.  Dink's  school,  too,  is  capital, 
and  where  else  in  fiction  is  there  a  better  nick-name  thani 
that  the  boys  gave  to  poor  little  Stephen  Treadwell,  "  Step 
Hen,"  as  he  himself  pronounced  his  name  in  an  unfortunate 
moment  when  he  saw  it  in  print  for  the  first  time  in  his  les 
son  in  school. 

On  the  whole,  these  books  are  very  satisfactory,  and 
nfford  the  critical  reader  the  rare  pleasure  of  the  works  that 
are  just  adequate,  that  easily  fulfill  themselves  and  accom 
plish  all  they  set  out  to  do. — Scribner's  Monthly. 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO.'S  POPULAR  JUVENILES. 

JACK  HAZARD  SERIES. 

6  vols.  ByJ.T.  TROWBRIDGE  $7.25 

Jack  Hazard  and  His  Fortunes      Doing  His  Best. 
The  Young  Surveyor.  A  Chance  for  Himself. 

Fast  Friends.  Lawrence's  Adventures. 

CHARLES  ASBURY  STEPHENS. 

"This  author  wrote  his  "Camping  Out  Series"  at  the  very 
height  of  his  mental  and  physical  powers. 

"We  do  not  wonder  nt  the  popularity  of  these  books ;  there 
is  a  freshness  and  variety  about  them,  and  an  enthusiasm  in 
the  description  of  sport  and  adventure,  which  even  the  older 
f«lk  can  hardly  fail  to  share." — Worcester  Spy. 

"The  author  of  the  Camping  Out  Series  is  entitled  to  rank 
as  decidedly  at  the  head  of  what  may  be  called  boys'  litera 
ture." — Buffalo  Courier. 

CAMPING  OUT  SERIES. 

By  C.  A.  STEPHENS. 

All  books  in  this  series  are  I2mo.  with  eight  full  page  illustra 
tions.    Cloth,  extra,  75  cents. 

CAMPING  OUT.     As  Recorded  by  "Kit." 

"This  book  is  bright,  breezy,  wholesome,  instructive,  and 
stands  above  the  ordinary  boys'  books  of  the  day  by  a  whole 
head  and  shoulders." — The  Christian  Register,  Boston. 

LBFT  ON  LABRADOR;  OR,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  SCHOONER  YACHT 

"CURLEW."     As  Recorded  by  'Wash." 
"The    perils    of    the    voyagers,    the    narrow    escapes,    their 
strange  expedients,  and  the  fun  and  jollity  when  danger  had 
passed,    will    make   boys   even   unconscious   of   hunger." — Neic 
Bedford  Mercury. 

OFF  TO  THE  GEYSERS;  OR  THE  YOUNG  YACHTERS  IN  ICELAND.    As 

Recorded  by  "Wade." 

"It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  Wade  and  Read  and  Kit  and 
Wash  were  not  live  boys,  sailng  up  Hudson  Straits,  and 
reigning  temporarily  over  an  Esquimaux  tribe." — The  Inde 
pendent,  New  York. 

LYN*  HUNTING:  From  Notes  by  the  Author  of  "Camping  Out." 
"Of  first  quality  as  a  boys'  book,  and  fit  to  take  its  place 
beside  the  best." — Richmond  Enguirer. 

Fox  HUNTING.     As  Recorded  by  "Raed." 

"The  most  spirited  and  entertaining  book  that  has  as  yet 
appeared.  It  overflows  with  incident,  and  is  characterized 
by  dash  and  brilliancy  throughout." — Boston  Gazette. 

ON  THE  AMAZON;  OR,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "RAMBLER."     As 

Recorded  by  "Wash." 

"Gives  vivid  pictures  of  Brazilian  adventure  and  scenery." 
— Buffalo  Courier, 


THE    JOHN    C.    WINSTON    CO.  S    POPULAR    JUVENILES. 

HARRY  CASTLEMON. 

HOW  I  CAME  TO  WRITE  MY  FIRST  BOOK. 

WHEN  I  was  sixteen  years  old  I  belonged  to  a  composk 
hon  class.  It  was  our  custom  to  go  on  the  recitation  seat 
every  day  with  clean  slates,  and  we  were  allowed  ten  min 
utes  to  write  seventy  words  on  any  subject  the  teacher 
thought  suited  to  our  capacity.  One  day  he  gave  out  "What 
a  Man  Would  See  if  He  Went  to  Greenland."  My  heart  waa 
in  the  matter,  and  before  the  ten  minutes  were  up  I  had  one 
side  of  my  slate  filled.  The  teacher  listened  to  the  reading 
of  our  compositions,  and  when  they  were  all  over  he  simply 
said:  "Some  of  you  will  make  your  living  by  writing  one 
of  these  days."  That  gave  me  something  to  ponder  upon. 
I  did  not  say  so  out  loud,  but  I  knew  that  my  composition 
was  as  good  as  the  best  of  them.  By  the  way,  there  was 
another  thing  that  came  in  my  way  just  then.  I  was  read 
ing  at  that  time  one  of  Mayne  Reid's  works  which  I  had 
drawn  from  the  library,  and  1  pondered  upon  it  as  much  as 
I  did  upon  what  the  teacher  said  to  me.  In  introducing 
Swartboy  to  his  readers  he  made  use  of  this  expression  : 
"No  visible  change  was  observable  in  Swartboy 's  counte 
nance."  Now,  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  a  man  of  his  educa 
tion  could  make  such  a  blunder  as  that  and  still  write  a 
book,  I  ought  to  be  able  to  do  it,  too.  I  went  home  that  very 
day  and  began  a  story,  "The  Old  Guide's  Narrative,"  which 
was  sent  to  the  New  York  Weekly,  and  came  back,  respect- 
\ully  declined.  It  was  written  on  both  sides  of  the  sheets 
bat  I  didn't  know  that  this  was  against  the  rules.  Nothing 
abashed,  I  began  another,  and  receiving  some  instruction, 
from  a  friend  of  mine  who  was  a  clerk  in  a  book  store,  I 
wrote  it  on  only  one  side  of  the  paper.  But  mind  you,  he 
didn't  know  what  I  was  doing.  Nobody  knew  it ;  but  one 


THE   JOHN   C.    WINSTON   CO/S    POPULAR 

day,  after  a  hard  Saturday's  work — the  other  boys  had  btv^ 
out  skating  on  the  brick-pond — I  shyly  broached  the  subject 
to  my  mother.  I  felt  the  need  of  some  sympathy.  She 
listened  in  amazement,  and  then  said  :  "Why,  do  you  think 
you  could  write  a  book  like  that  ?"  That  settled  the  matter, 
and  from  that  day  no  one  knew  what  I  was  up  to  until  I  sent 
the  first  four  volumes  of  Gunboat  Series  to  my  father.  Was 
it  work  ?  Well,  yes  ;  it  was  hard  work,  but  each  week  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  manuscript  grow  until  the 
"Young  Naturalist"  was  all  complete. 

— Harry  Castlemon  in  the  Writer* 


GUNBOAT  SERIES. 

6  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTLEMON.  $6.00 

Frank  the  Young  Naturalist.       Frank  before  Vicksburg. 
Frank  on  a  Gunboat.  Frank  on  the  Lower  Mississippi. 

Frank  in  the  Woods.  Frank  on  the  Prairie. 

ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTLEMON.  $3.00 

Frank  Among  the  Rancheros.     Frank  in  the  Mountains. 
Frank  at  Don  Carlos'  Rancho. 

SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTLEMON.  $3. 75 

The  Sportsman's  Club  in  the  Saddle.     The  Sportsman's  Club 
The  Sportsman's  Club  Afloat.  Among  the  Trappers. 

FRANK  NELSON  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTLEMON.  13-75 

Snowed  up.         Frank  in  the  Forecastle.    The  Boy  Traders. 

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THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO..  PHILADELPHIA 


THE  JOHN   C.   WINSTON   CO/S   POPULAR   JUVENII^S, 

ROUGHING  IT  SERIES. 

3  rols.  BY  HARRY  CASTL,BMON.  $3.00 

George  in  Camp.  George  at  the  Fort. 

George  at  the  Wheel. 

ROD  AND  GUN  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTLBMON.  $3.00 

Don  Gordon's  Shooting  Box.      The  Young  Wild  Fowlers. 
Rod  and  Gun  Club. 

GO-AHEAD  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTI,BMON.  $3.00 

Tom  Newcombe.  Go- Ahead.  No  Moss. 

WAR  SERIES, 

6  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTXBMON.  $6.00 

True  to  His  Colors.  Marcy  the  Blockade-Runner. 

Rodney  the  Partisan.  Marcy  the  Refugee. 

Rodney  the  Overseer.  Sailor  Jack  the  Trader. 

HOUSEBOAT  SERIES. 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASIXBMON.  $3.00 

The  Houseboat  Boys.        The  Mystery  of  Lost  River  Canon. 
The  Young  Game  Warden. 

AFLOAT  AND  ASHORE  SERIES, 

3  vols.  BY  HARRY  CASTXBMON.  $3-oo 

Rebellion  in  Dixie.  A  Sailor  in  Spite  of  Himself. 

The  Ten-Ton  Cutter. 


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